


The Necromancer and the Thief

by VvardenfellVixen



Series: The Necromancer and the Thief [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Action, Adventure & Romance, Cute, Dark Elf, Dunmer - Freeform, Elf Slash Fic, Erotica, Falling In Love, Fantasy, Gay Dunmer, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Plot, Self-Indulgent, Sex, Slash, Smut, Some Humor, Vanilla, easy reading, elf slash-the best kind of slash, just for fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:00:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 46,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22575955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VvardenfellVixen/pseuds/VvardenfellVixen
Summary: This ain't my first rodeo, but it is the first fanfiction I've been willing to publish to the public, so this is a huge milestone for me. Please don't hesitate to point out spelling/grammar errors, poor syntax, or plot discrepancies. I'm open to constructive criticism. Most importantly, please enjoy. I know sometimes people just want a casual read without having to think too much. It's all just for fun. Entertainment for the sake of entertainment. I tried my best to stay in tune with the canon lore, but may have tweaked some things here and there. I also don't like being too descriptive and I'd rather express the tone through dialogue, so I hope it comes across okay.💖 I also worked really hard to concoct some sentences in Dunmeris, so if you want to know what someone is saying, just quote them for me in the comments for the respective chapter and I'll happily translate. 💖
Relationships: Vendras Volur (original male character)/Romlyn Dreth
Series: The Necromancer and the Thief [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1668292
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This ain't my first rodeo, but it is the first fanfiction I've been willing to publish to the public, so this is a huge milestone for me. Please don't hesitate to point out spelling/grammar errors, poor syntax, or plot discrepancies. I'm open to constructive criticism. Most importantly, please enjoy. I know sometimes people just want a casual read without having to think too much. It's all just for fun. Entertainment for the sake of entertainment. I tried my best to stay in tune with the canon lore, but may have tweaked some things here and there. I also don't like being too descriptive and I'd rather express the tone through dialogue, so I hope it comes across okay.
> 
> 💖 I also worked really hard to concoct some sentences in Dunmeris, so if you want to know what someone is saying, just quote them for me in the comments for the respective chapter and I'll happily translate. 💖

It was a crisp evening late in Hearthfire in The Rift. The young Dunmer Vendras Volur relaxed alone at his table at the Bee and Barb inn pondering some notes and studies that he had written himself regarding a unique incident in his current home city of Windhelm. Perhaps this elf was as peculiar as the task at hand. Vendras was a necromancer—and a very talented one, at that. Though the practice was no longer considered illegal as it once had been, the moral questionability of raising the dead frequently posed a problem, so he kept to himself most of the time to learn and practice. A handful of people knew of him, and many didn't even believe the mage possessed such abilities at all, but desperation sometimes makes even the most skeptical of people believe in farfetched things. Everything fell into place for him following the murder of the young Nord woman Friga Shatter-Shield, one of many victims of a serial killing spree, whose family missed their daughter's presence so much that they did the unthinkable. The only reasonable decision was to seek out the hermit who lived alone in the old farmhouse in the woods outside of town. The rumors of Vendras were only hearsay—at least some of it—nothing but the chattering of people trying to create a backstory for the antisocial elf who occasionally visited the Gray Quarter of Windhelm to purchase select items he had not the skill to fashion on his own. It was only natural, and with his level of reclusiveness, he expected it. At the very least, it gave the children in town an urban legend to tease one another with. No matter what was true and what was not, he found it amusing, all the same. He could be seen having meals at inns from time to time, and most people treated him respectfully, but he tried to stay far away to ensure that his experiments did not wreak havoc on the innocent, even the bigoted Nords who were despicable towards his kind.

In this instance, Vendras was given an offer he could not refuse. The Shatter-Shield family allowed for him to legally reside on the property of Hjerim, Friga's former home and her final resting place. It was perfect in every way, especially given the tragic circumstances. After filling out some legal documentation with the steward, Hjerim hall became free reign for Vendras, under the conditions that he must figure out a way to resurrect their daughter. Obviously, that was not written specifically in the contract. The wording was something along the lines of: “If the occupant fails to meet the requirements of the landlords, he or she may be evicted at any time. If the desires of the landlords are met in full, the deed will be transferred to the occupant thusly.” In essence, the property belonged to him indefinitely. He possessed both the confidence and the knowledge to raise that young woman from the dead and have her up and running as normally as she always had prior to the tragedy. He could easily reanimate her corpse, but the goal was to reanimate her with her mind and body in tact. And with how kind and generous the Shatter-Shield family had been toward him, he had no qualms with helping them regain their happiness, no matter how impossible it may have seemed.

However, though his studies traveled with him, Vendras's business in Riften differed from that of his business in Windhelm. Even a necromancer had job security in this day and age. On top of (nearly) owning his own expensive bit of property without spending so much as a penny, Maven Black-Briar offered a shower of wealth to Vendras if he could fullfill some important favors, some of which required use of his particular set of conjuration skills. He may have bitten off more than he could chew regarding the job market, but he didn't care. He didn't even like her. No one did, really. The pull of her power and wealth was so strong, many remained compliant out of fear. The coin was too good to pass up, and he'd have been a fool to say no to Lady Black-Briar.

Vendras would have preferred the solitude of his room at The Bee and Barb, but he found it more difficult to concentrate on his paperwork listening to the muffle of the hustle and bustle in the eatery downstairs than when he heard it outright. He tied back his long, auburn hair, took a hefty draught of his mead and focused his blood red eyes on his conjuration journal. A room full of drunken buffoons wasn't enough to distract him too much. Fortunately he was a multitasker. One pointed ear remained vigilant, and in it focused on the gossip and commotion. The other ear tuned out completely.

Vendras did eventually become distracted when he grew suspicious that a conversation may have been about him. Alas, much of this conversation he picked up on was spoken in Dunmeris. Growing up in Skyrim for most of his life, he regretably was not fluent in the tongue of his own people. The vocabulary he knew was very limited, as he had forgotten much of the language. After his parents passed away when he was a child, he had no one else with which to converse and lost the knowledge he once knew.

Vendras's ears perked up at the chorus of laughs coming from the small clique of Dunmer across the barroom. He recognized a few of them as employees from the meadery during Maven's brief tour of her facility. He did his best not to make it obvious he was watching them. He focused a crimson eye their way, but did not turn his head. A dark elf man who appeared to be about the age of Vendras, possibly older as he had only seen him once in passing at the meadery, periodically glanced his way a few times, and would turn to speak to his friends each time. He was a bit rambunctious and loud, and clearly inebrieated. He mixed the common language with Dunmeris, so even the sophisticated brain of Vendras had a difficult time deciphering. Perhaps the conversation was not about him, and he was only paranoid. Either way, he found himself gripping the handle of the dagger in his belt. One could never be too careful. A stranger in their town could have been considered a threat. Primitive-minded hooligans always wanted to spat with the newcomer just to prove something. What it was, Vendras had no idea, but he'd rather not take a chance.

Soon, the light gray complected dark elf, with pale hair to match rose to his feet, clumsily stumbling over a chair in his path. His friends chuckled and jokingly called him a _s'wit_ , one of the few words Vendras recognized. He also realized this elf was moving in his direction. Hand still on his dagger, he pretended to be engrossed by his scholarly paperwork. The elf pulled out the chair beside Vendras and sat.

 _“Ju'okor adur ohn?”_ he said in a gruff tenor voice. He didn't sound aggressive by any means, so Vendras loosened his grip on his weapon, but did no let go, but he didn't even have a guess what the man said.

“Um... _os merakhe bahren amor,_ ” he responded shamefully and to the best of his ability with the words he could recall, “I'm afraid I'm not fluent in Dunmeris.”

The man shrugged, his crimson eyes much like those of Vendras widened with a tinge of surprise, but he was not offended at all. The world was changing, and cultures were mixing. “Oh? Forgive me for assuming. You're new in town and you are certainly a sight for sore eyes. I was simply wondering what a handsome young Dunmer such as yourself is doing in a pisshole such as Riften?”

Of all the things Vendras expected to happen while he was out of town, flirtation had not been remotely considered, and he felt his cheeks become warm, but he maintained his composure, even though he genuinely didn't understand what to do with the compliment. He never thought he was ugly, but also never really paid much attention to his appearance in the first place aside from being hygienic and presentable to the public as he was always entranced by science, books, and spellcasting. It sent a bad message to be unclean and untidy. But he still hoped the dim fire lighting masked the fact he was blushing. He carelessly laid his journal on the table as he took a moment to examine the face of this elf. Up close, he appeared a bit older than him, not much as far as elf years were concerned. His complexion was a shade or two lighter than Vendras's and his hair was white. The details of his face were defined, elongated, and typically Dunmer-like, but with a tinge of fiend and a hint of scoundrel. Both shared the same bloody crimson eye color, and even though he was now seated, Vendras could see the elf was a bit shorter than him, which didn't take much as Vendras was considered larger than the average dark elf. Vendras was caught off guard by the aura of this man's attractiveness and charisma, and the butterflies in his stomach fluttered. This man was no threat. He released his dagger entirely.

“Name's Romlyn Dreth,” the Dunmer extended his hand to him.

“Vendras...Vendras Volur,” he took his hand firmly, hoping to establish a bit of dominance as he shook it, but it didn't seem to matter at all.

“It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance, Vendras.” He wasn't as drunk as Vendras assumed, or perhaps able to mask drunkeness when it suited him. The coquettish tone was still very much present, perhaps moreso now that he had a name to put with the gorgeous slender face of the auburn-haired elf before him.

Vendras jumped after he realized he left his necromantic writings carelessly hanging open on the table and shuffled the pages together promptly. Many Dunmer were accepting of the dark arts, but there was no way of knowing how he'd be perceived by an elf residing in Skyrim. He wasn't ashamed of his work, but he didn't want to raise alarm if he didn't have to.

“What's that you're working on so studiously?” Romlyn asked with genuine curiosity.

“This? Oh...just some stuff for Lady Black-Briar.” He wasn't technically lying, but he was most certainly stretching the truth a bit. Now was not the appropriate time to mention the Shatter-Shields, if there ever would be a time.

Romlyn scoffed. Not because Vendras happened to be working for Maven, but the fact she had yet again recruited another Dunmer into her slave crew. She wasn't exactly shy about her distaste toward dark elves, but were it not for the handful of them who licked her boots for benefits, she was essentially a slave driver.

“You deserve better than than that '___.'" He used a perjorative term that Vendras didn't even remotely recognize. He wasn't even sure if it was a Dunmer term to be quite frank. Vendras found Romlyn's crassness oddly endearing. He laughed despite not knowing what he said, but he knew it must have been vile. From his brief time spent with Maven so far, whatever that word had been, he knew it was one hundred percent true. Since Romlyn was evidently underpaid by his employer, Vendras conveniently left out the part about the gold he'd be receving from Maven. From the looks of it, Romlyn had been in her employ for awhile, and he didn't want to step on his toes by being the well-paid newcomer.

Romlyn shook his head, “Nevermind that. I'm too drunk to be having a bad time crying about that battered hag. I came over here for a good time.” His red eyes twinkled, his gray lips curved into a cheeky grin. The pace of Vendras's heartbeat became so fast he grew concerned about his health. It had been a very long time since anyone made him feel alive like that, especially during a first encounter. Maybe Romlyn Dreth was also a necromancer of sorts.

However, he did not desire to be distracted by romance at this time. “I should head to bed. It's getting late. Busy day ahead of me tomorrow.”

“Come on. Have a few more drinks and loosen up,” Romlyn pleaded.

Vendras was still trying to wrap his mind around his own feelings, and before he could protest him, Romlyn waved to Talen-Jei, the green-skinned Argonian bartender, and pointed at the table. Romlyn spent enough time in the bar for the reptilian man with a delightful green and yellow crest to interpret the wordless request with ease.

“Your tab is getting a bit high, Dreth,” Talen-Jei stated nonchalantly as he placed a flagon in front of each elf.

“Please, please not in front of the gentleman,” Romlyn begged, annoyance in his gravelly tone. Talen-Jei wasn't hatched yesterday, he knew exactly when Romlyn was trying to chase some tail, but teasing him in front of his potential dates was far too entertaining. It happened so frequently, Talen-Jei had already filled the flagons with the most delicious and popular beverage they served. The Argonian's scaled lips upturned into a smile when he peered upon the recent newcomer Vendras. “These are on the house—but only this time, Dreth!” The lizard continued to tease his friend, but Romlyn grumbled anyway and shooed him away before he could embarrass him further. Keerava, the tan-scaled Argonian innkeeper who was cleaning empty tables nearby was also keen on Romlyn's shenanigans and shook her head. “You're going to be the death of me, Romlyn Dreth.” She turned her attention to Vendras, remembering when the young elf checked in just a few days ago, and how quiet and behaved he was in her inn—also the generous tips. No one ever tipped there before. “You're a good and polite young man, this one here is so below your league it isn't even funny.”

Romlyn grumbled and rolled his eyes.

Vendras didn't know what to say. He didn't ask for any of this, in fact he didn't even consider this encounter a date. “I'm just...trying to have a drink and do my work.”

Romlyn felt a bit offended. Maybe he was getting old and losing his charm, he thought to himself.

Keerava chuckled, winked at Romlyn and sauntered back to her post behind the reception counter to check in the handful of new patrons who just entered the establishment.

Romlyn cleared his throat, though it didn't do much for his gruff voice, “So Vendras...tell me about yourself.”

Vendras peered over to the other tables noticing that many of Romlyn's friends from moments ago already cleared out for the early mornings they had the next day. They knew they already lost their companion to the chase, so there was no point to impose.

“I...I keep to myself mostly.” It wasn't a lie. If anything, he thought he was boring. At least to normal people. He didn't like talking about himself anyway, he'd rather listen. “So you work at the meadery?” He made an attempt to get himself out of being the topic of conversation.

“Yeah. Been there for years. It pays the bills...at least that's what I tell myself...but really...I'm nobody. I just want to get to know _you_.”

Vendras hated to admit it to himself, but he was unusually nervous, though not in a bad way. And unfortunately for him, Romlyn noticed this weakness.

“You're bashful. That's cute. The shy ones are always more interesting.”

He didn't have a response but smiled awkwardly as the elf looked him over, intensely attracted to Vendras's appearance, and also intrigued by the grouping of raised scars on his left cheek.

“What happened?” he asked, and Vendras knew right away they would come up in conversation at some point being such an obvious detail, but the memory pained him, and his reaction was to hide them. Romlyn was very obvservant.

“It's fine if you don't want to talk about it.” He did want to know, but didn't want to come on too strongly. He was sure he'd find out eventually, but he loved flawed features that added character. It only presented him with a deeper desire to pursue. Vendras may not have realized how beautiful he was, but Romlyn was Oblivion-bent on getting to know more about him. Dunmer weren't known for being lookers, often irritable and statuesque in appearance, but Vendras had softened features that were not as deeply carved as the typical dark elf. Aside from the textured scars, his skin was very smooth and flawless, he had seductively arched auburn eyebrows to match his hair color. His high cheekbones gave his face a narrow appearance. To some, the blood red eyes could have been intimidating, but that was the most common eyecolor among dark elves. The slightly slanted and perfectly almond shape that both enhanced and defined all the other features of his face was what Romlyn found most riveting. He didn't want his admiration to be confused with gawking, but Vendras gave him a good feeling and he could not stop poring over his features.

Aside from that, Romlyn could tell right away this was no simple man with good looks and an empty brain, piquing his interest even more. Attractive idiots were boring, and only provided temporary pleasure. For Romlyn, that ship had sailed. Time for something new and fulfilling. And refreshing it was to not have to dumb himself down for once. He was beyond confident he would open Vendras up eventually, even only after a few short words.

The conversation did evolve quickly and speaking to Romlyn became very easy. They delved into deeper topics that were far more interesting than droning about oneself. Vendras wasn't much of a talker if it wasn't something he was passionate about. He valued intelligent conversation over small talk, and this one surprised him greatly. They had enough drinks to have fun, but not enough to become drooling buffoons. Vendras feared he had planned to get him blackout drunk and take advantage, but after awhile he felt like he shouldn't have doubted his gut feeling when Romlyn first introduced himself. This elf was indeed charming. And smart. So much smarter than Vendras ever could have imagined. He could not fathom why he would work in a distillery, aside from the fact he seemed to really enjoy his alcohol.

As the hours passed, the flames in the fireplace burned down to embers, Vendras noticed that they were the only two left, aside from one severely inebriated Nord patron who was fast asleep face down in his dinner plate, but he was no bother. Dead to the world, he'd most certainly be there when the sun rose.

Vendras gathered his belongings and rose to his feet.“I really should head to bed. I actually do have a busy day tomorrow.”

“I'm sorry to keep you up so late. I was having such a good time I lost track of it. Please, allow me to walk you upstairs?” It was more of a question than a statement, gauging whether it was appropriate or not.

“By all means,” Vendras smiled, but he hadn't noticed just how big his smile had been.

Romlyn felt good about himself this night. He didn't want to make any unsolicited advances for once, so he kept his hands to himself as he followed Vendras up the creaky wooden stairs. Something was different this time.

Before entering his lodging, Vendras bid Romlyn good night in his native tongue—something he actually knew without having to ask the meaning. _“San juli.”_

Romlyn smiled wide. _“San juli.”_ He gently took the hand of Vendras and kissed it. He admired the softness of the mage's skin, but also the few callouses on those large masculine hands knowing this one also took care of himself just fine. He liked that detail a lot. But he didn't want to intrude on his personal space for long out of respect, so he released it, though he wished he could have held it longer, as his heart beat in his throat. Vendras, could feel the tingle as though the elf's lips were still against his gray-ashen flesh. Dunmer were naturally hot blooded, but even though they were in the cold dankness of Skyrim, the pair felt sweaty from the excitement of budding romance.

“I'll see you around,” the necromancer said as he slowly closed his door, wishing he could look into those bloody pools of tempting Oblivion just a moment longer, but the spell broke as the door clasped. The two of them knew they would be in each other's company again very soon. Vendras disrobed and crawled into bed, and even though it was late and he should have been tired, he could not stop replaying the events of the night in his mind, wishing it could have never ended.

The smile never left Romlyn's face as he meandered down the stairs to return to his home. Keerava and Talen-Jei, a recently wedded couple, both stood with their arms crossed, but both grinning happily, and both honestly surprised he didn't already seduce his new love interest, knowing his past sexual history.

“Oh? Didn't bed this one already?” Talen-Jei snickered.

“Shut up,” Romlyn said to his friend. “I'll see you tomorrow after work.”


	2. Chapter 2

It was a day of menial tasks for Vendras at the Black-Briar Meadery. When he was not doing odd jobs for Maven, she had him posing as quality control for the product, which was simple enough. It helped keep both of them under the radar for things that were generally frowned upon by society. He was getting paid for his time regardless, but pretending to have an actual day job was less than inspiring for the young mage.  
As he jotted down notes, he sensed a presence lingering behind him. His already sharply arched eyebrow raised and he turned around only to find Romlyn Dreth, the sight of whom warmed him like the sun. "Shouldn't you be working in the cellar?" he asked.

"Yeah but I thought I'd take a break for a few."

Vendras grinned. "You know Maven doesn't believe in breaks."

"Eh, fuck 'er." Romlyn winked. He was in trouble with her every other day as it was. It was surprising he still had a job at all, but when he did what he was supposed to, he was a marvelous perfectionist, so Maven kept him around. "So...how about you have a few drinks with me after closing time?"

Vendras had to admit the man had silky smooth charisma. He made like he was thinking it over, but he knew within his heart he would deeply enjoy another visit with him. "Hmmm...I might be able to pencil you in."

A tingling sensation flooded through Romlyn's veins. He desired so strongly to be back in the company of Vendras, and it was unbearably exciting hearing a "yes," or at the very least what he perceived as an affirmative answer. Wishing he could spend the rest of the day looking at Vendras's comely face and studying his body wondering what secrets he hid beneath his tunic and slightly loose leather slacks, he knew he had to return to his duties and reluctantly stepped away. "I suppose I'll be off then. See you tonight."

Vendras found himself grinning blissfully as he scribbled numbers and notes on his paper. He adored that feeling of a fresh new relationship and it wasn't often he found himself whimsical for another person. But then he suddenly grew sad. What if Romlyn didn't like the kind of person he really was? He shook it off. Only time would tell. It was much too early to be worrying about how a potential mate perceived him, if they'd even fall in love at all. He did not want infatuation to get the better of him.

Romlyn waited intently at his usual table, nervous that Vendras wasn't going to show, his friends reassuring him and telling him to relax. Brand-Shei, the Argonian raised dark elf who worked a merchandise stand in the Riften the market square, offered to buy him more drinks if it would make him stop being an insufferable _s'wit_. Waiting felt like an eternity to Romlyn. He had to remind himself that Vendras had no obligations to see him. They'd just met, after all. Perhaps he was busy or maybe he had forgotten.

Vendras peered at the horizon and as the sun set, he grew more anxious. He had planned to meet with Romlyn at The Bee and Barb, but Maven caught him last minute with a task so petty and insulting to his level of skill he may as well have worn a hat and shoes with bells to the affair. Unfortunately, his hands were bound by a contract. And it was unfortunate for the Bosmer orchard owner and farmer to have sold Lady Black-Briar some less than adequate fruits after the harvest season for her alcohol at an inflated cost.

“That miserable little tree monkey!” she spat. “How could one so in tune with the forest grow such lamentable produce!”

Unlike Maven, Vendras understood the necessity for the increased cost, and considering the climate of Skyrim, it could not have been easy to grow anything edible in such an infertile, frozen waste land, in fact, it was impressive he produced anything at all. He sympathized with the poor Bosmer farmer, knowing full well he worked harder than Maven could ever fathom. But because she saw his need to make a living from the extra effort as a personal attack, now Vendras with his dark hood over his face crouched in the bushes near an animal enclosure awaiting his cue.

From the road, Maven's hired grunts stood with their bows readied. A barrage of arrows rained down upon goats, cows, and chickens. The amount of senseless death pained Vendras, but he swallowed his pride and waved his hands raising a menagerie of undead, all at his command. With another flick of the wrist, the zombie livestock crashed through the backdoor of the Bosmer farmer's residence and from within resonated the mortified screams of husband, wife, and children along with the clapping of hooves and the crashing of broken plates and valuables. The intent was merely to terrorize, as the animals would crumble to ash in a few moments time, Vendras made sure no one would get hurt. When the commotion quieted down, he carefully trudged back to Maven's caravan on the road, in the back of his mind worried Romlyn had gotten so discouraged by his absence that he decided it best just to go home.

When he finally passed the gates of Riften, Vendras ran immediately to The Bee and Barb. He barged through the door, exhausted and out of breath. Many of the patrons had gone home or turned in for the night, but to his delight Romlyn was still there, completley alone now, his forehead flat on the table. He fell asleep waiting for Vendras to show. He felt dreadful for making him wait for so long.

Talen-Jei shook Romlyn's shoulder to awaken him when he saw that Vendras entered. The world twirled around him as he reluctantly raised his head. Maybe taking Brand-Shei's offer was a bad idea. His head throbbed, and his eyes spun dizzily, but his face still lit up at the sight of Vendras, who was still breathing heavily from his long jog.

“I'm so sorry!” he huffed as he plopped down in the chair. “By the divines, I wouldn't have blamed you if you had gone home to bed! I'm so, so very sorry!”

“Now wait just a minute, slow down,” the still drunk Romlyn rubbed his temples and the sleep from his eyes. He wasn't angry in the slightest. After all, Vendras did say he would show, but a specific time was never given. Vendras's behavior now was the tell all for everything he needed to know, and he knew that Vendras wanted just as badly to see Romlyn as Romlyn wanted to see him.

“It's just that Maven had me—"

“You don't have to explain yourself, I get it,” chuckled Romlyn.

“I feel like a complete ass. I didn't mean to make you wait all night.”

Romlyn knew that if Vendras, who was proper and respectful at all times, referred to his employer as “Maven” rather than “Lady” it was an interference. Priorities were in check for sure which made Romlyn smile inside.

“It's not your fault. Relax.”

Vendras was relieved that he was not infuriated. He finally caught his breath. Keerava brought him a plate of dinner on the house since he was the last one for the night, and a large mug of water for Romlyn.

“Your brain and liver must be pickled by now,” she said in her gruff lizard voice. It was obvious already how much he liked Vendras, so she figured she did him a service by helping him out. Any other time she'd have sent him home in her usual sarcastic, friend-like fashion. But Vendras was certainly something else and everyone who met him felt it. He was a kind soul who brought life to everyone he met. Who would want to deprive anyone, even the likes of Romlyn Dreth, of that kind of feeling? Keerava and Talen-Jei left the pair to their privacy.

Vendras shoveled food into his face as though he'd been starving for weeks.

“You okay?” Romlyn asked.

Vendras shook his head as he chewed and swallowed his bite. “Please excuse me. I haven't eaten since this morning. It's been a long day.”

“Wow. Actually, what did she make you do, if you don't mind my asking?”

Vendras washed down the large gulp of food with his drink. “Well...I don't know if I should really say but...well. Ah, to Oblivion with it. It's kind of comical, actually.”

“Well all right then, go on.”

“I'm a skilled conjurer,” said Vendras. He couldn't believe he was even mentioning it at all, but at this point, he didn't care. Looking back on it, it was objectively humorous. “I guess that wood elf with the orchard outside of town ripped off Lady Black-Briar, and her revenge was to incite some fear in him with an army of undead farm animals, animals I had to resurrect, of course.”

Romlyn nearly choked on his water as he sipped it. “What?!”

Vendras was wishing he could retract the story at that moment...until Romlyn cracked.

“That is the funniest thing I've ever heard!” He laughed for a long time, tears filled his eyes and he could hardly contain himself. “Please...Vendras tell me you're joking, right?”

He shrugged.

“You really did it?” Romlyn guffawed. “Ah...ah that made my night.” He wiped his eyes on his arm.

“I don't think it was _that_ funny,” Vendras said, his cheeks sore from smiling. Romlyn's joy was contagious.

“Are you kidding me? That is damned hilarious! Gotta admit though, that's mild for Maven. He's lucky she didn't burn his whole farm down.”

“Yeah...” It got a bit real for Vendras. She very easily could have made him do worse to that family. It may have been due to Vendras's demeanor. She was only giving him jobs she thought he could handle. He was more than okay with playing to that strength if it meant he didn't have to hurt or kill innocent people just trying to do their best to make a living.

After he had calmed, Romlyn changed the subject. “Anyways, I'm glad you came.” His hand slid across the table and cupped over the top of Vendras's. It sent pleasant chills up his arm.

“I'm surprised that doesn't bother you,” he said. “I don't tell many people that.”

“I had a feeling anyway when we talked the other night. You're quiet. I get that.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Nah.” Romlyn stared dreamily at the Dunmer across from him. “I'm already starting to like you more and more...I imagine things about you, and then you prove you're better than anything I can come up with...”

Vendras blushed and couldn't find anything to say.

Romlyn shook his head like he was waking himself up. “I'm sorry. Am I coming on too strongly? I don't want to make you uncomfortable.”

“No,” Vendras replied. “I guess we have to admit to ourselves that something is at work here we have no control over.”

It made Romlyn smirk. “You want to keep doing this? See where we end up? I'd really like to...”

“I don't see how it would hurt.”

They both laughed. With the way their hearts were beating, how could they be wrong?

“So tell me more about the school of conjuration,” Romlyn said.

They talked for the rest of the night until the sun rose and blared through the windows. Keerava and Talen-Jei were surprised to still see them both there when they stoked up the fires for breakfast time. It warmed both of them to see two others feeling what they felt before they were married.

Vendras went into a state of panic. “Shit! We have to be to work soon!”

Romlyn tugged his sleeve and pulled him back into the chair. “Come on...let's ditch today.”

“We really shouldn't.” He was positively manic.

Romlyn rolled his eyes. He was tired and wanted to go to bed, not work. “You're lucky you're cute,” he muttered to himself.


	3. Chapter 3

A month had passed. Most things were typical aside from the bizarre requests Maven asked of Vendras. Besides that, he spent his days at the meadery, studying and writing notes in his necromantic journals for the Shatter-Shields, and growing closer to Romlyn Dreth, close enough that people started talking around town. It was no secret they were interested in one another, giving each other eyes in passing at the meadery when they didn't have time to speak, and other such general flirtations. They made a habit of meeting for drinks and dinner every night. Vendras didn't care how late Maven kept him, he always made time for Romlyn and made it a point to do so. He wanted to. He couldn't recall another time he enjoyed the company of another person like this. Romlyn's friends always respectfully faded themselves out during this courtship period. They'd stick around for a bit, but found it best to let their friends have privacy.

As they laughed together and tipped back their drinks, a Dunmer woman by the name of Niluva Hlaalu who also worked at the brewery downstairs with Romlyn and lived at Haelga's Bunkhouse in town approached their table.

"So that's it then?" she said bitterly toward Romlyn. She hadn't been seen speaking to Romlyn for a very long time, but she had been around. "You just find someone new and move on just like that?”

His face went ghostly pale, even for an ashy skinned Dunmer. It was evident that he was embarrassed.

"Niluva, you said it yourself we were nothing. You picked a very convenient time to become jealous. But yes, what we had, whatever it was, has most definitely reached a close." He developed more anger than humiliation as he spoke. "Please leave me alone. Now."

Her hand balled up like she was about to flatten his pointed nose, but her fingers relaxed when he said one final thing. "Find someone else to feed your addiction."  
Niluva was crushed, but she backed down and walked away. It wasn't something to discuss in the middle of an eatery.

Romlyn supposed somewhere amidst the sexual favors she must have developed feelings for him after all, but he wished he didn't have to explain the situation to Vendras, who sat beside him with the most dumbfounded expression on his delightfully sculpted elven face.

"Ex girlfriend?" he inquired.

Romlyn cleared his throat, but his voice was naturally gravelly, so it didn't do him any service. "Not exactly..."

Vendras could tell he wasn't keen on explaining, understandably so, but he had an overwhelming desire to be open and honest with Vendras, so he told him the truth regardless, though he was reluctant.

"She needed money to feed her skooma habit...so the tradeoff was sex for coin. I'm not proud of that decision, but I used to have a thing for her anyway, I thought maybe something would come of it. It obviously didn't work out. I started ignoring her unintentionally when feelings weren't being reciprocated. You don't have to worry about anything, I swear it!"

Vendras found humor in his defensiveness, but he knew he had not been given any reason to distrust him. "Leave the past in the past where it belongs," he said reassuringly.

"You really are a different kind of person," Romlyn said with relief. "I can't believe you're not angry."

"Why should I be angry? You had a life before I came around. I don't expect anyone to sit around moping as they await the arrival of their soul mate."

Though he was astounded by how considerate and understanding Vendras was, he now felt a sense of pride wash over him like a cleansing rain. How lucky was he to land a man without jealous or controlling behavior. And soul mate? He found himself squeezing Vendras's hand without realizing until Vendras returned a firm squeeze.

"I'm not here to pass judgment on you. I Iike you, Romlyn."

Those words made him melt. “How about we get out of this noisy place and go for a walk?”

“I'd love to,” Vendras stated with confidence and certainty.

The waning late autumn sun glowed a gorgeous orange and red and flickered like the tongues of flames on the waterways. The pair treaded over the wooden walkways of Riften and leaned on a banister. Romlyn pecked Vendras's cheek when he wasn't paying attention as they peered silently and contently over the canal.

“W-what was that?” Vendras asked incredulously.

He kept his face forward. “Hmm? Oh. Must have been a mosquito.”

Shocked by that meager of a kiss from the likes of him, Vendras took Romlyn by the pointed chin and turned his face towards his. “Why don't you kiss me like a real man?” The heat of passion stole Romlyn's breath away. He didn't expect this level of dominance from Vendras. It ignited a fire within him he didn't realize he had.

The mage released him from his spell with a pleased sigh, rendering the normally chatty elf speechless.

“You are certainly something else,” said Romlyn after regaining his bearings.

“I like you a lot, Romlyn Dreth. I'm glad I came to Riften.”

An overwhelming desire to kiss Vendras more befell Romlyn. Their lips locked, he pulled him close, and they made out on the dock until darkness finally fell. The flavor of his lips and tongue was intoxicating and alluring. When they paused for a breath, Vendras made a timid yet spontaneous request as he looked down at the elf who was a head shorter than him. “Would you...like to spend the night in my room with me?”

Romlyn didn't want to show too much enthusiasm by answering too quickly, but at that moment he wanted him more than he'd ever wanted anything. “Yeah...yeah I'd like that.”

“Me too.”

They continued teasing one another until the rest of the patrons at The Bee and Barb turned in for the night or whoever lingered wasn't paying attention, then Vendras took him eagerly by the hand and lead him upstairs. After locking the door, he kissed Romlyn hard, pushed him across the room, and shoved him onto the bed. There had been a lot of pent up tension between them for awhile. Vendras promptly removed his shirt, revealing a thick and muscular torso as smoothly carved out as the features of his face, statuesque and flawless, with smooth blue-gray flesh, minimal body hair slightly darker than that on his head trailed down his torso and below his waistband. He helped Romlyn remove his too. He couldn't wait to see his slender fit build. He was a bit hairier than Vendras, his features were sharper and the veins in his muscles were more defined as he did a lot of heavy lifting. Vendras was pleased with his appearance and it only made him want him more.

Romlyn didn't expect such feral aggression from Vendras, but it aroused him immensely. The larger elf firmly held his wrists to the bed, grinding his hips into him, kissing him hard and gnawing at his neck like a starved lycanthrope.

"Had a little too much to drink tonight?" Romlyn panted.

"I barely had a drop." His wicked tongue slithered between Romlyn's lips.

"I'm not complaining," he sighed as he returned vicious kisses. "I've been wanting this since the first time I saw you."

"Oh yeah?" Vendras said seductively as his hand slinked over the front of Romlyn's pants, impressed by what he felt.

"I didn't think you were so bad."

"I'm full of surprises." He worked on loosening the ties on Romlyn's pants so he could slide his hand inside. He gripped his shaft tightly at the base and squeezed upward over the entire length.

"Vendras..." he gasped.

"You like that?" Vendras whispered as he licked the perimeter of his long elven ear.

"Uh huh," he grinned dreamily, arching his back begging for more.

"These are getting in the way.” Vendras pulled Romlyn's pants off the rest of the way and kissed his way back up his body. To Romlyn's surprise and delight, Vendras wrapped his long tongue around his penis and glided up the length slowly. He enjoyed the taste of Romlyn's flesh and the preejaculate fluid, but he only wanted to tease him, pleased as Romlyn writhed beneath him from the heavenly sensation.

"Oh wow, you are bad," Romlyn let out an enticed breath. He didn't know how much more he was going to be able to take.

Vendras crawled overtop of him, caressing every last curve of Romlyn's muscular torso with his large hands. He loved the feeling of his soft, hot skin against his fingers, the curvature of his waist in his hands.

Romlyn tolerated as much seduction as he could, and grabbed Vendras's face with both hands and pulled him back down to kiss him. He could barely contain himself. "I want to fuck you so badly," he snarled breathily.

Those words heated Vendras's entire body. His pants got even tighter to the point of discomfort, so he removed them. At the sight of Vendras's long and girthy phallus in the candlelight, he became more provoked, but wasn't confident enough to be on bottom that night. He wanted to feel it in his hand, warm, throbbing, and slightly sticky from perspiration and preejaculate as well. He stroked it lightly at first.

Vendras stretched to reach into the drawer of the endtable, contained within was an assortment of alchemical ingredients and concoctions. He removed a jar of a plant substance that doubled as a personal lubricant and tossed it to Romlyn. “How about you finish me off with this?”

The way he demanded it turned him on. He didn't want to defy him and did as he commanded, slathering the slippery substance on his hand and proceeded to stimulate his partner, slow and gentle at first, and increasing the strength of his grip to make Vendras squirm. The magnitude of the sensation was nearly impossible to endure, and it wasn't long before he erupted with orgasmic rapture, violently propelling a few spurts of his seed, gripping the blanket beneath him so tightly that his contorted fingers went numb, his toes curled and his body spasmed uncontrollably from the intensity; he could not suppress an ecstatic outcry.

Overcome with pride and lust, Romlyn was by no means finished with him, and he wanted to get to him while he was still in an exalted state of mind. “Bend over,” he uttered as he climbed over Vendras to kiss him, playfully biting his voluptuous bottom lip. “And hang on to the headboard.”

Vendras assumed the position and latched his hands onto the headboard, the effects of climax still stampeding through his body. Romlyn prepared himself with the slick lubricant from the jar, inserting himself with care. Vendras winced and withdrew slightly from the initial burning sensation. It had been so long he couldn't remember the last time he was intimate with anyone. But he needed Romlyn badly. And Romlyn wanted to get off. He began with slow and delicate thrusts to ease Vendras into the rhythm, but he could not stand to torment himself and keep away from his desires any longer, steadily increasing his thrusts to a vigorous pace. Vendras grunted and moaned and the bed quaked, creaked, and the legs scraped across the wooden floorboards.

Suddenly a pounding came from the other side of the wall of the adjacent room that shared it and a muffled yell called from inside demanding that they do that somewhere else.

Romlyn couldn't help but laugh and at the same time he came, and as he did so made a peculiar combination of ecstatic moaning, panting, and unruly laughter. He shook his head at the foolishness as he removed himself delicately from Vendras.

Vendras chuckled as well, and the both of them fell into a fit of laughter in each other's arms. The knocking person from before told them to shut up, which only made it more difficult to behave. Vendras buried his face in his pillow to mute his high pitched shrieks, and Romlyn held his hand over his mouth. After a time the snorts and chuckles became sparse until the Dunmer pair finally collected themselves. Vendras could not contain his smile, though. His red eyes glistened in the candlelight as he gazed upon Romlyn who stared right back at him. It was right then and there when he realized he could fall in love with that dreamy-eyed elf before him. Romlyn combed his fingers through Vendras's now tousled auburn hair, placed his warm hand on his cheek and stole a long and passionate kiss.

“I don't think I've ever been this happy in my life.” He rested his head in the crook of Vendras's arm. Vendras pulled him closer and pressed his lips against his brow. After a short bout of silence as they relaxed, it wasn't long before quiet snores were heard from Romlyn. He'd fallen asleep. “Good night, Romlyn Dreth,” he whispered before he drifted off himself.


	4. Chapter 4

The cheery morning sun peeped through the curtain and shone on Vendras's face. Annoyed, he yanked the blanket over him to block the light and rolled over, noticing he hadn't much room on the bed. He rubbed the grogginess from his eyes and discovered Romlyn Dreth snoozing serenely beside him. That was when he awakened enough to recall the pleasing memory of the night's events and he smiled and encased the smaller elf in his arms, brushing his frazzled white hair to the side to kiss his neck. Romlyn groaned and stretched from the disturbance, but did not wake. Vendras admired the curves of his body with his hands. He couldn't help but look at him and feel emotion swelling in his heart. He caressed him for too long and he did eventually stir, rubbing his face and stretching more vigorously.

"Well good morning to you," Vendras grinned and Romlyn grinned back.

"Good morning _ekilam merdekhes_." They shared a quick peck on the lips.

One of their stomachs growled but neither of them could tell from whom.

"Guess we should get some breakfast."

They proceeded with their individual morning rituals of dressing, relieving themselves, washing up and other such things. They could smell the aroma of delicous food wafting from the kitchen down below as Keerava started her work.

The handful of early birds at the inn remained almost silent as the Dunmer couple traipsed down the clunky wooden stairs. They took places at the bar, and Keerava didn't say anything, but it was apparent her lizard lips were fashioned into a smirk.

Talen-Jei broke the ice. "So uh...we received a noise complaint last night."

Keerava whipped the back of his knees with her tail, from which he buckled but did not fall.

Vendras and Romlyn shared a sideways glance and snickered.

"It's about damn time," Keerava said, pouring them both tankards of fresh, cold milk. "We thought you two would never get together."

"You owe me 20 gold," she whispered to her husband, who tried to slink away.

"Honestly though," Romlyn began as he gulped down a mouthful of milk. "We weren't that loud, were we?"

"That's...subjective," stated Talen-Jei jokingly.

Romlyn shook his head. "Serve us some breakfast, you loony lizard."

Talen-Jei prepared their plates and the elves indulged for awhile quietly, occassionally peeking at one another and grinning like children. It was a darling sight for the Argonian couple. Much better than dealing with the usual drunkards and barroom brawls.

"I like Vendras for him," Keerava told her husband as they both prepared more meals in the kitchen at the fire.

"He's a good lad," Talen-Jei agreed. "Sets him straight."

"Reminds me of us," Keerava touched her snout to his briefly.

Talen-Jei tilted his head. "Are you saying I'm not well-behaved?" She rolled her eyes and continued her work.

“Since we're both free from the ever-cracking whips of the brewery hag today, would you like to take a walk?” Romlyn chugged the last few mouthfuls of his milk.

Vendras replied with a sultry smile. “I'd like that a lot.”

“Let me grab my coat from my house.”

Vendras followed him down the pier to the final home just below Honorhall Orphanage. Across the canal was a strange looming door. It didn't really look any different from the rest of the doors, but it gave Vendras a terrible vibe. “What's in there?” Vendras pointed.

“That?” Romlyn groaned. “That is the entrance to what we call The Ratway. That's where the Thieves Guild hole themselves up like the skeevers that they are.”

Vendras was unnerved that he lived so close to those criminals.

He fiddled with the key in the lock and it got stuck. “Come on! Damned thing!” He muttered a strain of Dunmer curses until it finally opened. “Would you like to come inside?”

“Sure,” said Vendras.

“It's not much, but it's mine,” said Romlyn as he rummaged in the wardrobe. He fastened a soft leather coat lined with brindled wolf fur around his body. To Vendras, he was a bit overdressed, but he tended to forget that most Dunmer were not like him, possessing fond memories from their days in Morrowind. Romlyn was not alive for the initial eruption of the Red Mountain, but he did live in the province in a refugee settlement on the outskirts before moving to Skyrim as an adult seeking work before the events of the Red Year. 

Romlyn Dreth's home truly was humble. He didn't have many belongings and it was one room with a short dividing wall, behind which stood his sleeping quarters. The stone walls were damp and cold, and it was musty smelling from the moisture seeping in through the bricks. Vendras was not judgmental and didn't think anything of it. He enjoyed the hospitality. When Romlyn was ready, they went out.

It was nice to finally leave the confines of the city. Vendras and Romlyn ambled peacefully around the perimeter of the oddly serene Lake Honrich, their conversations developed casually and organically as they strolled. The trees of the Rift stood stalwart and vibrant with color even still. The blue sky and the warm colors blended like spilled paint in the reflection of the water's surface, truly a sight to behold. But not long after, the Dunmer couple happened upon a dead rabbit at the lake's edge. Romlyn analyzed the mangled little body, wondering silently how it died and disturbed by the thought that this lesser creature would become a decaying corpse rather than return to the dust with dignity.

“A hawk must have dropped him.” It was as if Vendras read his mind. He traced his fingers around the open wounds around the animal's broken ribs and shoulders.

Vendras thought deeply for a time, but he mustered the confidence and the trust to explain in detail to Romlyn about the Shatter-Shield family and his sworn duties to them. “Romlyn.”

“What is troubling you, Ven?” He could almost see the uneasy gears turning within Vendras's skull.

“You know I'm a necromancer, right?”

Romlyn shrugged, not entirely sure where this conversation was going. “Yeah you mentioned it a few times here and there, but I never thought much of it.”

“I know I've mentioned the Shatter-Shield family from Windhelm to you a few times and that I also work for them.”

“Yeah, you have.”

“I haven't been completely honest with you, but with good reason.”

“Ven, I don't think anything you do is without good reason.” Romlyn was confused, but he still felt like he had to console Vendras in some way.

“I am indeed a necromancer,” Vendras said. He never removed his gaze from the perished creature on the lakeshore. “I'm a very skilled necromancer,” he reiterated. “Because of this, people seek my services. There are so many things I can do for others, good or bad. But what I really want to do is to help others. Death is the most difficult part of life. Many do not accept it as reality. They refuse to believe that it is the final end. As intelligent beings, we always seek forbidden comforts. We have a desire to raise the dead and there is hope that the end result is that they come back to us as they were before they passed away. The Shatter-Shields sought me out...because their daughter was murdered. Imagine your heart is so broken...that you believe the only way to mend the pieces is to bring your loved one back to you, back from a place we're not meant to return from.”

Vendras held his hand over the animal, a swirling purplish light emanated from his palm. He demonstrated his necromantic powers to Romlyn by reviving the rabbit. It sprung up and hopped and flounced like a bunny always should. Romlyn replayed the words of Vendras in his mind, bewildered by this dark elf's love of life, for he was not infatuated with death, but possessed a love of life in a way no one could ever possibly fathom.

The rabbit crumbled to dust in just a few moments. Vendras knelt before the ash pile and scooped up some of the silt with his hand, his skin almost matching the shade. The dust sifted between his fingers like sand in an hour glass. "To think our own lives are just as fleeting..."

Romlyn watched with sorrow as the joy dissipated from Vendras's face. Majestic glimmers of copper and gold radiated from his silken mane in the midday sun, the autumn breeze stirred a few stray strands that loosened from the tieback in his long hair. Romlyn never saw a being more elegant.

“So that's what I've been doing when you see me rummaging through notes and journals and writing until my wrist nearly falls off. I want to find a way to bring their daughter back for good.”

Romlyn didn't realize quite how much he could love anyone as much as he loved Vendras in that moment. He always thought love was supposed to take time.

Lips chilled from the crisp autumn air planted firmly to the temple of Vendras. Then Romlyn helped him to stand.

“I hope you don't think ill of me,” Vendras said forlornly, and to no one in particular, though Romlyn assumed he was speaking to him. Their fingers interlocked and they returned to the city hand in hand.


	5. Chapter 5

Vendras requested an indefinite amount of time alone, and Romlyn obliged respectfully. He did not see Vendras for a few days, save for a few times in passing at the meadery. Thankfully, the atmosphere between them was not any different. They spoke and kissed quickly in passing and smiled at one another as always. Romlyn understood he wanted to dedicate some time to the Shatter-Shields, and rightfully so, but he couldn't help but miss him. He felt distant somehow, even though he was never more than a few feet away.

That night at the Bee and Barb as he indulged in drink, he asked Keerava a bizarre question. “Do you think it's too early to ask Vendras to live with me?”

Keerava placed her scaly taloned fingers on her hip. “Dreth, do you so love taking paying customers away from me? That lad pays me damn good money to stay here, you know.”

He rolled his blood red eyes. “Oh come on. Actually, it's kind of why I'm asking you in the first place, since it obviously does affect your income.”

Keerava sighed, which sounded more like a hiss. “Either way, I don't think I'm the person you should be asking. It is ultimately his decision. I'm not his mother—though I wouldn't mind a son like him if I ever did lay an egg.”

“You Argonians are gross and disturbing.”

She chuckled. “Anyway, maybe you should just go up and ask him. He didn't banish you, he just wanted privacy. Knock on the door. I bet you 10,000 gold he will let you in.” The unrealistic pricetag was deliberate. At this point, everyone in town knew that if Vendras would let anyone in, it would be Romlyn Dreth, always and for any reason, or none at all.

“You're right, Keerava. I'm just being foolish.”

After he worked up the courage, he made his way up to the upper floor to Vendras's quarters and knocked lightly so as not to startle him if he was entranced in thought. There was no answer, so he knocked again a little harder. This time, the door unlatched and creaked open.

“Oh, hello Romlyn.”

“May I come in?”

“Well yes, I suppose so.”

Romlyn was secretly relieved, as in the back of his mind he imagined being turned down. His nerves were churning in his stomach. “I'm not bothering you, am I?”

Vendras's head turned curiously. “Of course not. Although you seem plagued by something. What's wrong?”

His feet got cold. “Ah...maybe it's not appropriate right now.”

“Romlyn Dreth, how very unlike you not to speak your mind.” Vendras placed his hands on his cheeks and kissed him. “Come now. You can tell me anything. I know I've been a bit out of it these past few days, but believe me, I always have time for you. I don't want you to get the wrong idea from this, I just needed to get some serious work done.”

“Well, of course I know that,” said Romlyn, still apparently nervous and unsure of himself. “I have a question.”

“Okay?”

He took a deep breath. “Would you like to stay with me? At my house I mean?”

Vendras didn't say anything and crossed his arms.

“I know it's really soon but, I thought maybe it would save you some money and...you can have a quiet place to relax to do your work and...”

“If you miss me you could have just said that,” Vendras laughed sweetly.

Romlyn laughed at his own silliness. “Ven, I do really miss you. It's dumb, but it feels strange when you're not around.”

“It's not dumb at all.” Vendras enveloped him in an embrace then kissed the top of his head. “I've missed you too.” After looking at Romlyn a bit, he reached a quick decision. “I'd love to stay with you.”

Romlyn's heart skipped a beat or two, but he didn't say anything and Vendras could still see his excitement. “I'll be there tonight. I'll have to pack my things. But for now, let's go have a drink, yeah? I need a break.” They made their way downstairs.

“I guess we'd better say goodbye to our best customer now, Talen,” Keerava joked as the elves took their usual bar seats. “You did say 'yes,' didn't you, Vendras?”

He nodded with a cheeky smirk.

She let out an exaggeratedly annoyed sigh. “You better not stop drinking here, or else.” She winked at Romlyn. It was her way of letting him know she was right and that he blew the whole situation out of proportion.

Vendras kissed Romlyn behind the ear and whispered, “You didn't have to be so afraid to ask me that.”

“I just don't want to rush us into things, you know?” he responded quietly.

“The pace at which things occur matters not. What matters is what feels right. You don't have to overthink it.” He kissed him again and they enjoyed their drinks and chit-chat for the rest of the evening.


	6. Chapter 6

Moving in with Romlyn proved to be a very beneficial decision. Vendras had peace to work, and of course, his comfort at night. The passing days were rather mundane, aside from Indaryn slinking around at the brewery barking orders at everyone more harshly than usual. Indaryn was supervisor under Maven's employ. Another Dunmer, who's scrunched dark face was as foul as his attitude towards his inferiors. His only useful purpose was shining Maven's boots with his tongue to excel within the company. He had a particular distaste for Romlyn Dreth, who disparaged Lady Black-Briar openly any chance he got. Naturally, Indaryn didn't like that, but he always managed to try to buddy up to everyone to gauge what they'd say about his beloved boss, that way he knew who to give the dirty work to. Needless to say, Romlyn Dreth's big mouth always made him a victim of this practice.

Romlyn didn't particularly like Indaryn, but he had no ill will towards him and a fair amount of respect when it suited him to give it. Indaryn had his moments and he could be joked with from time to time, but for the most part, his peers viewed him as a slave driver. Indaryn had caught wind of someone stealing from the company, and he was determined to find out who. Based on a comment he received about burning down a rival brewery to impress Maven which may or may not have been facetious, he had a very good idea who it might be. He continued his sleuthing.

“Ah, Volur,” the conniving elf greeted.

Vendras was busy ensuring crates had the correct number of wine bottles in them, stacking the completed ones on the side. “Trouble, Indaryn?” The elf didn't typically speak to him unless he had a work-related issue.

“I had a question for you,” Indaryn casually ran his finger over a window sill, sneering at the build up of dust, and promptly wiping it off on the curtain. After all, he didn't want to get his fancy clothes dirty. “I understand you are close to fellow coworker, Romlyn Dreth?”

Vendras wondered what he was getting at, as it was an almost unneccesary inquiry. It was no secret by any stretch of the imagination that the Dunmer were in a romantic relationship. “Well, yes. Is that a problem in the work place?”

“No, no, no. Nothing like that,” Indaryn assured, but it was obvious that detail was an important part of his private investigation. “I only wanted to ask if he's been behaving strangely at all.”

“I don't believe so,” Vendras answered genuinely. He couldn't recall a single moment of Romlyn acting out of character, but he did go out alone from time to time, though never without announcing he was doing so. Vendras didn't consider it to be problematic. “Should I be worried about something?”

The pretentious dark elf knew by his demeanor that Vendras was telling the truth. “Please, don't be alarmed. I merely have to interrogate everyone. Some of the inventory has been unaccounted for. It only makes sense that an employee is responsible for missing product. May I?” He pointed to the log book in Vendras's hand.

“Of course,” he handed it over with ease. He watched Indaryn's dark red eyes dance as they skimmed over the pages, struggling to find an issue or a forgery with the documentation, but he found nothing out of place. Curse Vendras Volur for being so efficient. Indaryn shrugged in disappointment and gave the book back to Vendras. “I hope I'm not making you nervous.”

“Not at all. You're just doing your job.”

“You only have two more hours for your shift?”

“Yeah,” Vendras replied.

“You can leave early today. You're already well ahead on these. Finish up that crate you're on and go home.”

It was unusual for Indaryn to be so generous, but he certainly wasn't going to complain. Vendras completed the work that was requested of him, and slung his pack over his shoulder. As he climbed the stairs, he could hear a commotion getting louder, and the voice of his significant other echoing off the wooden walls.

“Ah come on! Leave the kid alone, Indaryn! You're always pickin' on him. He's doing his best.”

“Ungrien's supposed 'best' is costing Lady Black-Briar a fortune,” said Indaryn.

“Bah! She has so much money she wouldn't even notice something as petty as an unsealed keg,” Romlyn protested.

The embarrassed young Bosmer man at the sampling counter hid his face.

“Whatever,” Indaryn said passive aggressively. “It'll be coming out of your pay, Ungrien.” The grouchy Dunmer stormed off and the little wood elf tried vainly to remedy his predicament by performing other duties.

“Can you even believe the nerve of that filthy fetcher?” Romlyn put his hands on his hips. Then he noticed Vendras beside him. “Where are you going?”

“Indaryn dismissed me for the rest of the day,” he said.

Romlyn looked like he'd been punched in the gut. “Yells at us all day and sends you home.”

Vendras shrugged. “Er...sorry.”

“Well go on then! Get!”

He couldn't tell if Romlyn was angry with him or not, but he inched away slowly, and after a few slow steps, Romlyn halted him.

“Whoa! Hold on a minute!” The smaller elf ran up to him. He looked around both of Vendras's shoulders to make sure Indaryn was truly gone, then kissed Vendras quickly.

“Thinkin' you're gonna leave me here without kissing me goodbye. You have some nerve too. I'll see you at home.”

At least he wasn't actually mad, Vendras thought.

Some time had passed and Romlyn was without Vendras at work for the first time in weeks. Everyone was too busy to converse, so he did his work as well. His job involved tending to the holding vats and distillers, so he spent time chopping wood and monitoring fires. There was a lot of heating and cooling necessary. It was important to have appropriate mixtures and temperatures for the appropriate flavor and to avoid cloudy alcohol. After that, the fermentation process did the rest of the work. It was boring, hard labor, and with Vendras off for the day, Romlyn felt like there was no reward for him working so diligently.

He lived for the brief moments he got to see Vendras's fiery mane, perfectly framing his face and contrasting with his ashen skin as though he had been painted. The countenance of the elf was diplomatic, not excessively manly or aggressive and on his resting expression he wore a tiny, almost smug smirk. Romlyn enjoyed watching him fill out his log book at work, his elegant long-fingered hand delicately handling the quill, and just by the way his hand flowed over the paper, one could envision the beauty and neatness of the penmanship. The way the stately elf towered over everyone in the brewery, with his long arms and legs, but he was not scrawny. He had a fit and hefty build, very masculine and contrasted slightly against his face quite artistically. Even shrouded beneath his robes and trousers his physique was prominent. Romlyn lost himself fantasizing about the ravishing elf waiting for him at home, contemplating tearing all of Vendras's clothes off and ravaging him like an animal as soon as he walked in the door, the anticipation building up would make him even more grateful to lie with him when the time arrived.

Romlyn's carnal daydream was interrupted, by Ungrien.

“Romlyn.”

“Huh?” He had to shake off the whimsy.

“Lady Black-Briar is requesting to see you in her office.”

Perplexed, Romlyn wondered why she would have summoned him at all. He'd been behaving lately, at least he thought so. Vendras made sure he stayed in his lane for the most part, though even the typically straight-laced elf was guilty himself of a few private encounters on the job.

“Lady Black-Briar, how may I be of service to you?”

“You may need to sit down for this.”

Romlyn pulled up the chair and sat nervously. Normally she didn't even ask anyone to take a seat, it was in and out. This couldn't be good.

Maven circled her desk and took her own seat. “It is to my understanding that you have been bootlegging my wine.” Her tone was as cocky and self-important as ever. She spoke so carefree that it was more terrifying than if she screamed in his face.

“Preposterous, my lady,” the only logical thing to do in this situation was lie.

“I see...might it be possible that you're lying to my face?”

“I would never, my lady.” His stomach churned.

She stood and walked slowly toward him, her expression showed no emotion. “Now you see, Romlyn Dreth, I happen to know for a fact you're lying, the crackbrained grayskin you are. Especially when you carelessly sell your—my—product to those who have already pledged their allegiance to me.”

Romlyn swallowed hard. He couldn't imagine who ratted him out, but it undoubtedly was a person so deep in Maven's pockets they were lost in her birth canal. Someone he once believed was loyal to him so easily swayed by gold. He may have been a scoundrel, but he'd never hurt those close to him for any amount of gold.

“Nothing to say? How odd for you.” she remarked sneeringly. “Now,” her slow footsteps echoed on the wooden floor. “We may be able to sweep this whole situation under the rug, lest we get the authorities involved and you rot in jail for the rest of your miserable grayskin life...and from what I understand that's a _very_ long time.”

She tapped her fingers on the desk, her hagraven-like nails clacked ominously on the polished wood. “So you will pay your debt to me...whatever price I deem necessary with the consideration and admission of time you've been embezzling me.”

“What—,” Romlyn's throat felt as if it was about to close, though he never admitted his guilt outright, but he knew it was over. “—what if I can't afford to pay you?”

“Oh?” Maven grinned. “This is where it becomes interesting. You see...it has come to my attention that you are romantically involved with another under my employ. An interesting lad he is...and what a shame. He's been so obedient and loyal to me like the good boy he is...but you and I both know about his special 'talents.'”

A surge of wrath welled within Romlyn, reddening his cheeks.

“Look at that gray face! I guess your kind have some color in them after all! You see...my little minions could plant some falsities about him all around the city, oh even further if it suits me. They will incite fear and malice...and they will take him to the square and promptly remove that ravishing little grayskin head... or I can do even worse. I can only imagine what atrocities he's about to commit here in my fair city...I already have some experiences of my own to divulge...”

Romlyn rose so fast the chair flipped behind him. “You harm so much as a single hair on Vendras, I will gut you so deeply it will erase your entire lineage.”

Maven cackled heartily. “ _You?_ Threatening _me_? How precious. But now that I've exposed your weakness, I will take great enjoyment in making you suffer. You pay me, or else, grayskin! I have eyes all over this city. If you try to skip town, I'll do so much worse to your little lover and I'll cut off your eyelids myself so you have to watch! It is clear you have made your decision. You're done for today. Now get out of my sight, you dust-dwelling wretch!”

Like a scolded dog, Romlyn exited the business office of the Black-Briar Meadery. From within the shadows, the eyes of Maul, Maven's paid watchdog, fixated on him as he descended the wooden stairs that lead to his home on the waterway. He already had been informed. Directly across the canal loomed The Ratway, the sewer system that lead directly to the lair of the Thieves Guild. They had no rules anymore. Who knows what else she would have them do to him if he did not comply. He didn't know how he would tell Vendras. Bracing himself, he entered his home. Inside, Vendras sat in the center of the bed comfortably with his long legs crossed, writing and organizing his documents.

“You're home early,” he said. “That's unusual.” He never looked up as he shuffled and stacked the parchments and scribbled writings with his quill. Romlyn approached saying nothing, then sat beside him. Vendras paused a moment to welcome his lover home with a quick peck on the lips before completing his task. He found it odd Romlyn was so quiet, but didn't question it as he continued to work.

“Ven...my darling?”

“What is it, my dear?” Vendras paused and looked at him.

“Do you happen to know how to brew an invisibility potion?”

He placed his papers down. This was obviously more imporant. “As a matter of fact, I do but...what's going on?” He could see dread in Romlyn's eyes.

He grabbed his lover's hand and held it tightly. “Romlyn? Please talk to me.”

“I messed up. I really messed up, Ven. Maven...”

Vendras's ears twitched with concern. He knew it was bad if it had anything to do with her. “No...”

“I've been keeping something from you. I've been bootlegging her wine for years. She found out. If I don't pay her back she's going to go after you...she's going to try to hurt you to get revenge on me. We have to find a way out of here.”

Vendras himself had no fear whatsoever of Maven Black-Briar. “You don't need to worry about me.”

“No...Ven you don't understand,” panicked Romlyn. “I think one of my buyers was a member of the Thieves Guild. I bet that's how she found out. Her obedient little dogs.”

Vendras cocked his head. He knew it couldn't have been the Thieves Guild. They didn't care for anyone but themselves, and they'd jump on any offer of quality alcohol for cheap. They dealt in stolen goods, after all. It hadn't occurred to him that Romlyn never once mentioned being questioned by Indaryn, which he at the very least would have complained about later on as the pair discussed how their days had gone. This led Vendras to believe that Indaryn was conducting a biased investigation, knowing what he knew now. He never wanted Romlyn to suspect he was onto him, which made sense. Vendras pondered the events. Indaryn approached him a few weeks ago to ask those oddly specific questions regarding Romlyn, hoping his lover had secrets to divulge, but Vendras had no answers for him. He was the only one from the meadery who seemed to have any concern about it, as no one else brought up it up. He must have managed to find the proof he was so adamantly searching for, and Vendras could not think of another person in the brewery or even in town—not even Niluva Hlaalu, who was a stone's throw away from losing her job—who would care enough to rat him out. All roads led to Indaryn.

He wished he'd have taken the apparent accusation more seriously at the time. Perhaps this situation could have been prevented. Either way, Vendras would have his revenge on Indaryn in secret, that bootlicking little _n'wah_. He only cared about about impressing his god-empress so he could progress within the company. Of course, that's what he had himself believing. Maven was quite prejudiced toward the Dunmer people. She didn't want any dark elf to get far ahead in life, it was merely simple to employ them since so many refugees from Morrowind crossed the border in droves in need of work and better living conditions. Indaryn certainly had no more merit than any of the Dunmer working for her.

“The Thieves Guild don't hurt people, they're just petty thieves who pretend to do heists. We have nothing to worry about.”

“Oh but my dear that's just it. People will do anything for the right price, and Maven would spend every last septim just to see me suffer for doing wrong by her. Even if they won't do it, someone else will, but no one will dare say no to her.”

Indaryn's head was buried deep in his boss's anal cavity. He had so much more to lose if he did wrong by Maven. This was a separate issue Vendras wanted to handle on his own, Romlyn need not know of it.

“What kind of price are we looking at here?”

Romlyn shrugged. “Some made up number, for certain that has yet to be determined.”

“Maybe she'll garnish your wages?” Vendras tried to think of ways to nullify the situation and keep his lover out of prison until they could come up with something.

“She'll take all of it. She always does. Not only would it be for the duration of my life span, but I won't be able to afford to live. I either pay, or she will harm you. I'd rather risk leaving than be an indentured servant. I don't think she'll really do anything to you, she was just trying to frighten me. Please...I know you like to rationalize but this time there is no rational answer. You have to help me leave town...”

“I can't buy the ingredients from the alchemist, they'll know exactly why I'm there especially with Ingun Black-Briar around,” said Vendras, rubbing his chin in thought. “However, I might be able to use her to my advantage. Perhaps I happen to go picking my own variety of plants and such, I might be able to make it look like I'm simply brewing potions. That's not suspicious at all for one of my nature.”

Romlyn was thrilled. “Oh my darling, you would really do this for me?”

“Of course, I would. You can flee north to Windhelm. My landlords are very kind and understanding. All you'd have to do is ask for the Shatter-Shields and tell them I sent you there to wait for me...yeah? They won't think twice about it since I'm doing that big favor for them. No...I'll send a letter with you when you go. They'll require proof that you're not just some swindler or murderer. They'll recognize my handwriting and my signature.”

Romlyn hugged Vendras tightly. As they embraced, Vendras continued hysterically spewing out more plans. It was exhausting to listen to. “You'll have to leave first and I'll follow after some time has passed. It would look too suspicious, right away. I'll have a whole alibi planned, Lady Black-Briar won't know the difference. I'll get her to dismiss me, and I'll take the road to Windhelm. It's foolproof. Romlyn...just please remain subservient for the time being. Just give me a week.”

He sighed heavily. “As much as it pains me...I don't want to get killed by crossing her. I'll behave. I swear.” He kissed his lover's cheek in assurance and gripped his hands tightly.

“There's a lot at stake, but I'll make sure you're safe,” Vendras promised confidently. “Just go to work and come home as you always do. Do extra if she asks. Don't be too quiet of course or she'll grow suspicious. I'll get to work as soon as possible.” But first he would deal with Indaryn. Romlyn would never know of his coworker's treachery.


	7. Chapter 7

The luna moth wing proved to be the simplest to aquire. Moths and torchbugs fluttered about everywhere in the Rift during nightfall. The poor creature landed on his sleeve during an evening stroll. He had nothing left to live for anyway, especially not possessing a mouth with which to enjoy delicious sustenance, slowly starving to death with only the goal of reproduction. Vendras took pride in providing him with a higher purpose as he removed his wings, tossing the rest of his body to feed the fish in the canal. The vampire dust was a bit trickier, considering a vampire had to die. He wasn't about to go murder someone to get a handful of ash and he didn't have time to travel outside of the city to obtain it. He had one more trick up his sleeve. Ironically, it involved Maven's daughter Ingun. The girl was the black sheep of the family, more worried about brewing potions than gold or anything else for that matter. He figured she would think nothing of it, as her passion for alchemy was so blinding she'd love to share and discuss it with anyone who came her way. All Vendras needed was to request something with healing or regenerative properties, knowing full well the dust was one of the best for the job. He wouldn't ask outright for the ingredient. Her mother shared no interest in the topic, so it would never come up organically in conversation, if they ever spoke to one another at all.

In the meantime, Vendras kept an eye out for Indaryn. Unusual that he hadn't seen him much, even at the meadery. Maven must have had the back of her little bootlicking tattletale. He hadn't put much thought into what he was going to do to him yet as he had been too furious, and thought it was a terrible idea to make a rash decision when he was so emotionally driven. Although he did feel like he should have taken care of the problem sooner before it escalated. He had to drum up another plan to deal with it. It would have been too obvious to murder him outright. As much as he adored the thought of defiling his body with dark magic and various experimentations, he had to play it safe for Romlyn's sake. There had to be another way. For the time being, Vendras wanted to collect himself and have a drink and a bite to eat, so to the tavern he went. His thoughts were entirely too violent and he decided he needed to cool off.

Talen-Jei offered a pint of his preferred beverage at no charge as a courtesy. (All subsequent drinks he would have to pay for, of course).

“You look angry,” observed Talen-Jei as he served Vendras his dinner. “Not just 'dark elf angry.' Angry angry.”

Vendras sighed. “A lot on my mind lately.”

Talen-Jei chuckled. “Romlyn getting on your nerves?”

He responded with a laugh and shook his head. “Not at all. He's been nothing but a dream.”

“Pfft. Bollocks.”

“I'm being honest,” Vendras said. And indeed he was. He couldn't think of a single second of misery since he'd met Romlyn, even with recent events.

“Well if you really think that about _him_ , then I hope he puts a ring on you.”

The statement struck a chord with Vendras. He hadn't put that much thought into any of his relationship with Romlyn really. With the way he was behaving lately over a simple man really put everything in perspective. In fact he was so busy going with the flow and having fun with Romlyn to realize he truly had a strong connection with him. He loved him, and for some reason he found it frightening.

Talen-Jei, satisfied he got Vendras's gears to turn, tended to another table.

Soon after after Vendras shoveled a few forkfuls of horker steaks and baked potatoes into his gullet as he tried desperately to deny his own emotions, some of the Snow-Shod family entered the establisment. The son, Asgeir, was Maven's business partner. The man with him, Vulwulf was his father. Lo and behold, not long after, the man of the hour, Indaryn himself made an appearance after being off the grid for days. Vendras stared him down. If looks could kill...

The frowning, distorted face of the dark elf Indaryn was uglier than ever. He took a place at the bar to speak to Keerava about his “problems” from his ivory tower. She didn't care to listen to him, he wasn't even remotely close to being a friend, and unfortunately for her, therapy came with the territory of owning a tavern. Piss drunk people loved to spill all their issues, and for some reason they preferred complaining specifically to her. Vendras's guess was because they had repressed sexual feelings for a woman as exotic as an Argonian. He pitied her deeply for such unwarranted attention from overly needy men who only saw her as a piece of meat.

Vendras maintained his distance, but he did not avert his gaze. However he became disheartened as the hagraven herself Maven entered later on for a drink with her eldest son Hemming. He'd have no chance of doing anything now, but he remained vigilant and observed everyone around him. One of his largest concerns was that Romlyn never came in for his evening drink. He came in every night, even if he didn't feel well. It broke Vendras's heart that Romlyn lacked the ambition to do the thing he enjoyed the most, and broke it even more knowing he was alone sulking and most likely terrified for his life. Vendras had a mind to abandon the final scraps on his plate as he gulped down his last mouthful of mead. Even though Indaryn was in his sights, there would be no good way to pull off anything at this time. There was no purposeful reason to behave irrationally, better to return home to look after Romlyn in his time of need.

As he began to make his way to bid his Argonian friends good night, Brand-Shei, the Dunmer from the market square mistakenly bumped into him as he tripped on the leg of a table. “My apologies, Vendras.” He nodded and continued to the exit when he noticed Brand-Shei had dropped an enchanted dagger from his belt. He intended to pick up the item to return it to him, but before he even had a chance, Asgeir noticed the weapon on the floor and made to reach for it, which resulted in a screaming match between him and his father.

And that was the icing on the sweetroll, because Indaryn drew his weapon and intervened. There was too much commotion in the bar at this point to hear what the lot of them were yelling at one another, but it wasn't long before Asgeir gutted Indaryn in the heat of the moment. Vendras stood by, mouth agape, simultaneously mortified and relieved. Had Indaryn not have already pulled his weapon, Vendras might have believed it was murder in cold blood. And he might still have believed it if Asgeir didn't have the same kind of financial pull as Maven. Even if he didn't fully agree with how it went down, there was a problem solved, no skin off his back for it either.

Following the “disagreement,” Vendras noticed that the Snow-Shods forgot all about the dagger lying on the floor. Vendras offered it back to Brand-Shei since it was rightfully his property, but he denied it adamantly. “Not a chance. I don't want a dagger that gets a man killed with no one even touching it. It must be cursed. Throw it in the lake for all I care. Keep it. Whatever. Just get it away from me.” Although confused by the superstition, Vendras still understood the sentiment. He decided he'd sell it later on so it went into his own pocket. After the Riften guards filed in to review the scene, Vendras at last took his leave while everyone was distracted by the rabble.

The twin moons hung brightly in the sky, both full. Vendras discovered Romlyn standing alone on the edge of town looking out over the lake. He placed is hands on his shoulders as he approached him and massaged lightly.

“Hey,” he greeted forlornly. After a few quiet moments he asked why there were so many guards going to the Bee and Barb.

“Umm...” he was uncertain how he'd take the news. Romlyn didn't necessarily like Indaryn, but they did work together for years and there had been a few good times between them despite their occupational positions and differences at the meadery. “One of the Snow-Shods stabbed Indaryn over a dagger Brand-Shei accidentally dropped.”

As expected, horror befell Romlyn's face, his red eyes widened. “Is he all right?”

Vendras shook his head and spoke as tenderly as he could. “He's gone.”

“Wow...”

He reached the conclusion that there wasn't anything to gain by telling Romlyn that Indaryn was responsible for his current predicament, so Vendras let it go. There was no reason to add salt to his wounds.

Vendras made an emphatic vocalism through his closed lips. “So what about you. Are _you_ okay?”

“Not really.”

Vendras wrapped his arms around him, resting his head on top of his. His hair smelled faintly of blue mountain flowers, lavender, and a bit of sweat from working hard at the meadery all day. He inhaled his fragrance deeply as it comforted him, and then he kissed the top of his head. “You don't have to worry about anything as long as you're with me.” He was certain that the idea of wealthy individuals simply offing his coworker knowing they'd get off scot-free was bothering him now, as it paralleled his own situation. It reminded him how much of a meaningless peon he truly was.

“I know what you're thinking in your head right now and it's not true,” Vendras said, planting another kiss on Romlyn's crown. “You're everything to me.”


	8. Chapter 8

Despite the previous night's chaos, the daylight blared on as it always had giving the illusion that life was perfect and carefree. The sky was as blue as ever, the moons were still visible, and the atmosphere was tranquil. It was a beautiful day for gathering the final components to brew an invisibility potion. Elgrim's Elixirs was situated on the end of the waterway. Luckily for Vendras he managed to bump into Ingun on his way.

“Miss Black-Briar,” he greeted politely.

“Ingun please,” she requested sweetly. Unlike the rest of the family, she was genuinely kind, albeit very peculiar.

This should go smoothly, he thought to himself. “I've heard you are a very talented alchemist and wondered if you may assist me.”

Her honey-hued eyes, much like her mother's but with no hint of distaste, became wide with delight. “Of course! Anything you need!” she beamed, her black hair lifted with the one of the final autumn breezes of the year.

“I've been feeling under the weather lately. I was wondering what the best ingredient was to put in my tea to help me feel myself again.”

“Oh! I have just the thing!” she began to rattle off a list of ingredients and their properties, but Vendras had to slow her down.

“Uh...I think I need something to get my blood flowing. I feel fatigued even when I get out of bed in the morning even after a good night's sleep.”

Ingun put her hand on her chin. “I see...perhaps you have a bout of sickness. I have just the thing for you from my own supply. You wait right here!” She jogged down the dock to the alchemy shop. It wasn't long before she flounced her way back to Vendras. She handed him a little corked jar labeld “vampire dust” and a piece of paper with a prescription reading “two pinches of dust taken with beverage every 4 hours.” Vendras reached in his pocket for some coins to compensate her but she halted him.

“Don't worry about that. Just come back to me if you suffer any adverse effects. Let me know if it helps!”

“Thank you very much. I appreciate this.” Vendras bid her farewell and headed back to Romlyn's home straight away. As he eagerly burst through the door he said, “Wash a pot and an empty wine bottle because I have exactly what we need.”

“Praise the healing mother, you are the best!” Romlyn Dreth tightly embraced his lover and promptly heeded his request. He scrubbed and rinsed vigorously so as not to contaminate the mixture. Vendras gathered a few household ingredients for filler and fresh water and went to work. He knew exactly what to do with great precision to derive the desired result, and he admired the purity of the vampire dust that Ingun supplied him with. It was a fine powder uniform in color, and it appeared to contain no other debris. This should be fine for a long acting invisibility potion, just long enough that Romlyn can get past the Riften guard watchtowers outside of town to the north. Vendras crushed the luna moth wings into a fine powder as well. He stewed the ingredients and fillers for the alloted time, allowed it to cool, then carefully ladled the mixture into the empty wine bottle. It was the perfect solution for an extended length of invisibility.

“You are incredible,” Romlyn admired Vendras who was sweating as he worked hard over the sweltering heat of the cauldron, the perspiration glistening on his brow. Vendras popped the cork into the bottle and the enticed Romlyn swooped in suddenly to kiss him, thankful that anyone could be this kind to him. Caught off guard, Vendras pushed him away playfully, and chuckled. “We haven't even gotten started yet.”

“I know,” Romlyn kissed him in between groups of words, “but to think anyone cares about me this much is invigorating.” Emotion was high for both of them. Their lips locked in the heat of passion. For a brief time, their worries were absent from their minds as they enjoyed one another's company. The session travelled from the fireplace to Romlyn's bed on the other side of the house. They removed articles of clothing on the way, and tossed parchments that Vendras had left there from earlier in the day heedlessly to the floor. Romlyn straddled Vendras, kissing his neck and caressing his muscular bare chest. Vendras was so aroused he couldn't bare the tightness of his trousers and undid the button. This action enticed Romlyn and he slipped his hand into the open fly to grope his well endowed partner, which made Vendras kiss him harder.

 _“Os ura ohn,”_ Romlyn breathed sensually, which overwhelmed him with desire. He knew exactly what it meant, but he was delighted by the exotic sound of the words gracing his long elven ears. With brutish force, even for a smaller elf, he rolled Vendras over so he was on top. _“Captu lo,”_ Romlyn begged lustfully.

“I don't want to hurt you,” Vendras gasped between kisses, removing the rest of his garb as well as Romlyn's. He was aware he was endowed and knew it could be intimidating, especially since Romlyn always seemed to make sure Vendras finished first before he could even think of bending him over.

Romlyn just wanted more than anything in this moment to feel him. “You won't,” he responded. Animalistic tendencies overwhelmed his mind. He arched his body to be closer to Vendras. Vendras could no longer contain his desires. He took the jar of lubricating substance they kept handy for frequent horseplay and applied a liberal amount to his genitalia. He eased himself in gently, groaning from the intensity and the tight pressure stimulating the sensitive parts of his phallus, and he did what felt good, grinding his hips into him slowly. His mind transcended as the wealth of emotion coursed through him. Vendras moaned, _“Os daelha ohn.”_ The phrase caught Romlyn off guard and he hoped within his heart that it was not simply lust clouding his partner's judgement, as neither of them had yet said such a thing to one another, the emotion within those dark elvish words drove him insane with passion. He sighed with pleasure as Vendras lightly bit his shoulder and gently girated his hips. He didn't want to take it too far for fear of harming him, but Romlyn kept begging in his ear, switching between Dunmeris an the common tongue, his wicked whispers entering his skull like fiendish imps. Vendras's body screamed for sweet release, and he went rougher despite his reluctance. It did not take too many thrusts to climax as he was already well beyond the state of arousal, yelping with delight and an uncontrollable orgasmic convulsion which forced his body deeper, in turn hitting just the right spot within Romlyn to abruptly finish him off. With a sultry groan and an enticed chuckle of surprise, he squirmed beneath his lover, feeling both pain and pleasure and the delightful sensation of Vendras's fluids. Vendras could feel the warm geyser of his lover's seed expelled onto his abdomen.

Romlyn took him by the cheeks with his rough working hands to pull him in for a kiss while the rapture lingered longer than usual. He could feel his heartbeat thumping in his arteries and he loved every second of ecstasy burning within his body. He was used to getting off and leaving, but it was different with Vendras. Everything was different with Vendras. He made him feel like a new man. He burrowed his face into Vendras's neck and wrapped his arm around him. Vendras lovingly kissed his temple. It was pleasant to forget their problems and accept this reality even though it was only temporary.

“I won't let anything happen to you,” Vendras said sweetly. “I value you too much.”

He nudged Romlyn to get him to look at him. “I think I'm in love with you,” he said. He wanted to see Romlyn's eyes.

“I know I'm in love with you,” Romlyn said sincerely, and Vendras smiled back at him. He kissed the tip of Romlyn's nose and pressed his forehead against his. After enjoying the aftershock of their ecstasy, they decided it was best to clean up before they got too comfortable. The rest of the day was theirs to seize and do as they pleased before they had to part ways.


	9. Chapter 9

Vendras's eyes opened reluctantly the following morning. Romlyn slept comfortably beside him cradled in his arms. It was the first time in days that he was not restless in his sleep. Vendras nudged him gently, trying to wake him by kissing his ear. They had to take care of the final preparations so he could leave Riften swiftly and safely at nightfall.

Romlyn mumbled and pulled the blanket over his head and rolled over, but Vendras tugged it back down playfully as he continued to nibble at his ear. He was awake enough now to find humor in the tickling sensation on his flesh. “All right, I'm up.”

“We have to get started.”

“I was afraid you'd say that.” Romlyn yawned and stretched. “At least I have something pleasant to wake up to.” He gave Vendras a long kiss and they both nuzzled joyously.

After washing and getting dressed, Romlyn stoked the fire that had died in the night to take the chill and dampness out of the stone walls and floor and started fried eggs for breakfast. Vendras gathered necessities such as food, water, and a variety of potions and medicines and packed them into a knapsack for the trip northward. It was almost a ten hour trek on foot, likely to be longer as the winter finally fell upon them seemingly overnight. The chill was even chillier.

Romlyn handed him a plate of a variety of breakfast foods and a mug of a warm cider-like spiced beverage. He was busy scribbling out a letter for him to take to the Shatter-Shields.

“Enjoy it before it gets too cold,” Romlyn pleaded.

Vendras placed his quill down and slid the parchment aside for the time being. “I'm sorry. I just want everything to go as planned.” He stuck a forkful of food in his mouth. It tasted so much more magnificent than usual because of the circumstances. Romlyn was a much better cook than he was and he was dreading not having a meal made by him for an extended time. Keerava and Talen-Jei had fine food, but it just wasn't the same.

Romlyn was again abnormally quiet.

“Are you worried?” Vendras asked.

“I'd be lying if I said I wasn't,” he said as he chewed slowly.

Vendras sighed despondently. It pained him to see Romlyn in this state.

“I think I'm in good hands though,” he forced a smile.

“I know you are,” Vendras responded confidently, carefully sipping his hot beverage. In between bites he added more to the letter and signed it.

“You remember the pseudonym we agreed upon in the instance you might have to speak to someone on the road?” asked Vendras.

“Drovas Whitemayne.”

“And once you get there, take this letter straight to Torbjorn and Tova Shatter-Shield. They have a surviving daughter Nilsine, but she may reject a stranger regardless. They will understand. I'm certain they'll allow you to stay in my home. They have been very kind to me, and a friend of mine is a friend of theirs. We'll go from there.” He sealed the letter and gave it to him to keep on his person. “Write me back as soon as you get there, Master Whitemayne.”

“I still can't believe you'd do this for me. I'm a criminal.”

As he cleared away his now empty plate, he combed back Romlyn's white hair with his free hand. “We all make mistakes, Romlyn. I know you're a good man. We'll start life anew once we're in Windhelm.”

“I feel awful dragging you into all this.”

“You didn't drag me anywhere. I'm here of my own volition.” he kissed him on his brow. “Let's get to work today as normal. A bit after nightfall when the streets are clear, it will be time.”

The day dragged on as the pair anticipated the night, otherwise it was an exemplary work day, maintaining their casual exchanges. Romlyn did his daily tasks down in the wine cellar while Vendras performed a variety of odds and ends for Maven. When he wasn't doing anything important for her, she treated him as one of her regular employees. A good ruse. Thankfully he was off duty for the next couple of days as she had nothing for him. Bizarrely generous of her, but it was advantageous to the plans, almost to the point that Vendras found them to be going all too well. It worried him. There was no way for anyone to know what was going on, but fear always loomed.

When the day finally ended, Vendras and Romlyn shared a final dinner together at the Bee and Barb. It was a pleasant time and felt like any other night, which set Romlyn's mind at ease a bit. He shouldn't have been as frightened as he was with Vendras taking care of him, but he still felt like he was failing him somehow. The love of Vendras was truly unconditional, and he didn't want to disappoint him anymore than he believed he already had. Many thoughts flooded his mind, but after all was said and done, he vowed to be a better man for Vendras Volur and he didn't care what it took.

At last, the final stragglers of the night went home, save for a few nightwatch soldiers, who coudn't have cared less about anything as they lazed about. Romlyn and Vendras still waited for them to wander out of sight before sneaking out to the northern edge of town. From there, Romlyn would bypass the surrounding wall and take the path along the edge of the lake around the Riften watchtowers, and once he was far enough away, take the road which would lead him northward. It was slightly out of the way, but the best way to avoid being caught.

Romlyn embraced Vendras more tightly than he ever had before.

“I love you so much, Vendras Volur.” His emotionally honest words rang in Vendras's ears like musical chimes.

Vendras wished he could have heard them spoken under better pretenses. “And I love you, Romlyn Dreth,” he replied with all his being as he combed a strand of hair behind his long pointed ear and gazed into his eyes which appeared purple in the dark. It was obvious even in the darkness that he was trying to fight back tears.

Romlyn's stomach churned anxiously. “I hope this won't get you hurt or...killed.”

Vendras stole an emotional kiss from him. “I'll be fine. You better go before the guards come back. I'll leave for Windhelm as soon as I receive your letter.”

Romlyn didn't want to go alone, but lingering made his heart ache more. He uncorked his invisibility potion and took a large swig from it, then disappeared into the shadows. Vendras went back home quickly before the guards saw him wandering suspiciously without his companion.


	10. Chapter 10

Several days passed and Vendras still hadn't received a return letter from Romlyn. He should have been there by now. He was starting to become anxious. Every time he passed the courier he inquired about any mail, and with sad eyes, the courier denied him. What could have happened to him? Perhaps he had forgotten or the courier from Windhelm was simply held up by inclement weather. Winter was upon them after all. No, it couldn't be possible, Vendras thought. These Nords thrived best in frozen misery. Something must have happened. What if Maven's thugs found him? Surely he'd be dead. Did a dragon eat the courier? Others also began to question Romlyn's absence, and Vendras had to pretend he knew nothing, which came with ease, as he truly didn't know at this point.

A lump formed in Vendras's throat, his stomach twisted and churned at the thought of him dead in the wilderness. He needed to search for him immediately. But he still needed to get by Maven. He already had a plan for when he got his letter, but since it never came, he needed a headstart. On the upside, he was already sickened by sorrow, but he chomped on a large portion of a blisterwort mushroom just to be certain. His eyes filled with tears, his dark ashen skin went white. He knocked on her office door with meager anticipation.

"Who is bothering me now?" griped the voice of the bitter woman within and the door flung open. "Volur, what in the name of Oblivion?"

"I beg your pardon my lady," he rasped. "I'm afraid I need to speak with you about taking leave."

She examined the elf up and down and rolled her honey colored eyes. "I assume this has something to do with Romlyn Dreth's sudden and...convenient disappearance?" She huffed with annoyance.

"Do forgive me my lady. I woke up one morning and he was gone from my side without a trace. I wish I knew where he was. I don't even know if he is still alive. In the bereft state I'm in, I fear I'm no longer a viable servant to you. Too much on my mind..."

Maven looked at his red teary eyes. She couldn't tell if they were irritated or not due to their natural coloration. She exhaled through her nose. "You truly have no idea where he is?"

Vendras shook his head. "No, milady. I don't even know why he would leave in the first place, at least not without telling me. I'm afraid something terrible may have happened."

A wicked grin formed on her wrinkled Nordic lips. "Oh what a fiend."

He played dumb. "I beg your pardon, milady?"

"Oh Vendras Volur, my sweet summer Dunmer...it seems dear old Romlyn Dreth has played you. Gaining your trust, learning your secrets...exposing _none_ of his own...then abandoning you once something comes up. Guess he's not that into you after all. I'm even willing to bet another younger, more handsome elf is involved."

Anger welled within Vendras. He knew she was lying through her teeth. But why would she stir the pot like this? It must have been some test to make him break character. While his distress was genuine, the reason for it was stretched just a bit. There's no way she'd think he was lying, as she always found him honest and in her own eyes, gullible. Yes, that was what Vendras would allow her to believe. Why would he let her play mind games with him when he was already smarter than her? He almost laughed out loud at the thought. Even though Romlyn was known for promiscuity in the past, Vendras knew him better. It was merely an easy card to play against him. The game got a whole lot easier, especially when he knew it was Maven out to get him for screwing her over. Vendras would be sure she'd never see a single septim, especially since he knew she was willing to cause harm to him. No, little puppet, I'm the one pulling the strings, he thought. It seemed like her only goal was in life was to cause suffering to everyone she encountered, even the ever altruistic Vendras Volur.

Vendras turned on the waterworks with make-believe shock to this newly discovered affair. "No, not Romlyn. He would never..."

Maven cackled wickedly. "You were just another plaything for him. Why else would he up and leave?"

"I don't believe you," sobbed Vendras. He knew Maven would drink up all those sad Dunmer tears like a fine wine. She thrived on the despair of others, especially dark elves. And even tastier still when those tears are of loss and heartbreak. The woman was vile. Vendras was actually surprised she cooked up such a drama, but it was so beneficial for him yet again, and he was thankful she was bored enough for something this petty.

She gestured dismissal with her hand. "Before you stain my fine fabrics with your foul fluids, you may take your leave." From the files within her desk she sifted through and removed the documentation that had been her written contract with Vendras Volur, and he watched as she placed the parchment over a candle. It was all too perfect. He ended up in the free as well as the clear. "I'm no longer in need of you. Be gone from my sight, grayskin. Seek out your lover. I hope you kill him. Actually, I'd love to see you torture him. Whatever gives me sweeter dreams." Her grin was more wicked than a demon.


	11. Chapter 11

Vendras quickly gathered his belongings from Romlyn's home on the waterway after his dismissal. He still had tears in his eyes, but this time it was because he was truly worried about Romlyn. After packing, he went immediately to The Bee and Barb, to the only people in Riften he could trust. Keerava, distressed by his current state of being based on the look on his face pulled him aside. "Vendras, you look very upset."

"Don't worry about me," he sighed. "It's mostly the blisterwort I ate.” He did happen to be mildly queasy from the fungus still, but it was a lie. He guided her as well as Talen-Jei to the cellar so he could explain everything to them from A to Z in private. Needless to say they were mortified, even as far as Maven Black-Briar was concerned, but also very worried about their dear friend's whereabouts. They had known he was missing, but did not know why until now.

"I'm leaving to take the north road toward Windhelm," said Vendras.

"Do you need me to go with you?" Talen-Jei, who hadn't seen much outside of his business at the tavern, offered bravely.

"Dear friend, I admire your courage, but you accompanying me would raise a red flag. Best if I travel alone for this. I can assure you, once these matters are settled, you will see me again."

Neither of the Argonians appeared to be very hopeful, but they didn't know their friend was a powerful necromancer. He had abilities that would make the Daedra themselves cower in fear. He was going to find Romlyn Dreth no matter what, and he was going to take down Maven Black-Briar once and for all.

The road to Windhelm was cold and riddled with rain and ice. The dampness was bone chilling for a typical Dunmer, but Vendras was acclimated to such dismal weather. He didn't care if he had to wade through chest deep snow. All he cared about was finding Romlyn. He wrapped his woolen cloak tighter around his body as the wind picked up and frozen rain stung his face and eyes. Vendras dreaded finding his lover's corpse, which was a likely possibility in such a climate. As Vendras ventured farther north, the rain turned into snow, but it still wasn't quite cold enough to accumulate, melting as it struck the tired, yellowed grass. He broke and had a sip of his resist cold potion as soon as he felt a shiver. Winter in Skyrim was not to be taken lightly. There were patches of snow here and there and Vendras happened upon a torn up area stained by blood, and fear of the worst overwhelmed him. He could not tell if there were any tracks, let alone what manner of creature had tossed up the slushy, muddied snow here. It wasn't entirely fresh, but the prior rainfall had also shrunken the snow down, so it was difficult to tell.

He was several hours away from a settlement in any direction. There was no turning back. He followed the trail and sure enough discovered more blood, growing more anxious. Not soon after, a trail of blood led to a body, thankfully not Romlyn's. It appeared to be the usual highwayman. Vendras didn't find any letters or disclosures of information about the person, or anything else of value, this was just a run of the mill robbery gone wrong.

But as Vendras peered ahead his heart sank nearly to his frozen toes. Propped against a tree in the near distance sat Romlyn Dreth. Had he not seen his hot breath in the chilled air, he'd have thought he was deceased. Vendras almost stumbled over a root as he ran to his aid.

"Romlyn! ROMLYN!"

Romlyn heard the silky tenor voice of Vendras, but he thought he was dreaming. Vendras examined a few more bodies lying dead around him. It looked like Romlyn had put up a good fight judging by the gory dagger sunken into the snow beside him, and his battered and bloodied knuckles. He was breathing heavily. There was a gash and a stain in his clothing but no wound on his stomach. It appeared to have already healed.

"By the divines, you're alive. What happened to you?"

Romlyn's eyes opened slightly. Maybe he wasn't dreaming after all. Vendras moved a soaked strand of disheveled white hair from his eyes. There was something off about them. In fact, they appeared to be glowing orange. Noticing the blood on his shirt, he pulled over the collar revealing a pair of healed but still noticable puncture wounds, dried blackened blood flaking away. He knew exactly what this was.

After kissing his lover's brow, he asked him how long he'd been out there.

"A few days. A week. I don't know for sure," he said meekly. "I'm just so glad I get to see you. I don't want to die out here."

It was certain to Vendras that the vampirism had already fully set in. He investigated the area around Romlyn some more and noticed he clutched an open letter tightly in his other hand, also stained by blood, Romlyn's or otherwise. Based on further examination, this was his own letter to the Shatter-Shields, and on the bottom near his signature there was an insignia added onto the letter that he recognized right away. This was a message that had been intended for Vendras to discover. Further investigation showed that Romlyn's care package was gone. So perhaps one bandit got away.

"Ven," wheezed Romlyn.

"Yes, my darling?"

"Before I die...will you make love to me one last time?"

Vendras could not contain a chortle. If he was making remarks like this, he knew he was more than okay.

"My love, we have to get you to Windhelm," Vendras spoke sweetly. "You've been afflicted with sanguinare vampiris."

"Is that why I feel like horseshit when the sun rises?" he said with a sardonic tone.

"They saved your life," Vendras said as he popped the cork off a healing potion he removed from his satchel and helped Romlyn to sip some of it down. "Had they not passed the disease to you, you would have surely died. Here. This will make you feel better until we get to town. We'll get you rested up there, but we will have to take a carriage to Morthal. I know someone there who can cure you."

"Why would a vampire save my life?" asked Romlyn genuinely. The potion was already proving to take effect as his voice sounded stronger.

"They must have recognized my handwriting and signature. I only use that symbol for clients and affiliates. They knew you were associated with me, so they killed off these bandits and rescued you by afflicting you since were mortally wounded."

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

"I have friends in dark places, Romlyn Dreth," Vendras said as he removed his cloak to place around him to warm him up and shield him from the daylight. Even though it was cloudy and the weather was poor, it was still rough on a newly made vampire. "I have many secrets. I don't want anyone to be frightened of me."

Romlyn grinned in the most endearing way Vendras had ever seen, even with the new canine teeth peeking through his bluish lips. "I guess you'll have to tell me more of your secrets later then."

Vendras was perplexed. "You're not scared I have vampires for friends?"

"I wouldn't even care if you were daedric lord Molag Bal himself. I love you Vendras Volur.”

The sincerity caught Vendras off guard yet again. He felt his cheeks get warm.

“Besides, it's my own fault we're in this mess as it is. I'm just thankful to be alive right now. I'm glad you came for me. I knew you would. I can't apologize enough for all of this.”

Vendras helped him to his feet. “Now is no time to feel inadequate about yourself. Are you all right to walk?”

“Yes, I'll be fine for now.”

The rest of the journey to Windhelm turned out well. It was evening when they arrived, and both of them were exhausted and famished. Vendras unlocked the door to his home with his key and welcomed Romlyn inside and offered him some of the nonperishable food that was left behind before he went to Riften. He'd have to go to the market later to restock on fresh food. “I know it tastes bad right now with your condition, but you still have to eat and rest.”

Romlyn sneered at the foul flavor. He never thought dried beef could ever taste so bitter. He tossed it aside for the time being as he was more interested in exploring this wealthy and hospitable home. So much more luxurious than that sewer he owned back in Riften. Vendras gnawed on jerky as well while he got the fires going. After everything he'd been through, it was refreshing to be back home. When the house finally warmed up, they bathed together and relaxed in the large comfortable bed. Romlyn especially enjoyed this. Many of the naughty things he desired to do to Vendras in that bed danced through his mind, but he fell fast asleep fantasizing about it. It was good for both of them to have peace of mind and the rest was well deserved. The miserable road was cold and unforgiving, and they had so many more miles to trek before they could truly rest again with peace of mind.

It was not too late when Vendras awakened from his nap. He woke Romlyn too and told him they needed to consult with the Shatter-Shields right away. The house neighbored his, and he knocked on the door, but there was no answer, so it was safe to assume they were at Candlehearth Hall in the center of town. Sure enough, he found Tova and Torbjorn there enjoying a late dinner. They were ecstatic to see him after his many month long absence.

“Vendras, it's so good to see you again!” They both hugged him.

“Likewise,” he said, just as happy to be welcomed home by them. “I don't mean to intrude on your dinner, but I'm afraid we have a important matters to discuss.”

“Of course. In fact, we have something as well. By all means sit with us, my boy.” Torbjorn offered the two chairs beside him, and Romlyn and Vendras took their seats. He also ordered the couple drinks, eager to catch up with his old friend. “This must be the infamous Romlyn we've heard so much about,” he winked. Vendras blushed, and Romlyn smiled about how cute it was, not previously knowing Vendras talked about him in his letters.

“Is he...all right though?” Tova looked him over. “Poor lad, you look very ill.”

“Well,” began Vendras. “That is one of the many things I need to bring up.” He lowered his voice. “I'm afraid he contracted vampirism on his journey here, and I need a safe place to keep him until we get our other matters taken care of before we can get him to Falion in Morthal.”

“Of course, my boy. You need not ask permission. It is your right.” Torbjorn was very understanding and caring for a Nord in Windhelm. “Let us discuss these things at our home after dinner where we can speak more privately.”

“Yes of course,” agreed Vendras. In the meantime, the old Nord couple expressed deep joy for him and Romlyn finding love during such dark times, among other friendly banter and small talk. Vendras was happy that the old Nord couple were opening back up and getting back into the swing of things even after the terrible tragedy of their daughter's murder several months ago. It must have been difficult for them. Though it made him feel terrible that he had not had the time to tend to their matters, but they were forgiving, and he learned just how forgiving they were once they arrived to their dwelling later that night.

“Vendras, we have something important to tell you,” Tova gestured for him and Romlyn to sit by the hearth.

“Torbjorn and I have been thinking...I know we've been pressuring you for awhile, and we do understand you were busy with that witch in Riften, which we are not upset about by any means, but we did some serious soul searching while you were gone and we have decided that it is not in our best interests to bring Friga back. It's just not right. The dead need to stay dead, no matter how much pain it causes.” It was difficult for her to say out loud as was given away by the quivering in her voice, but Torbjorn nodded silently in agreement, though his pain was evident.

Vendras was surprised, but understanding. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, lad,” said Torbjorn. “It would be too hard on young Nilsine. Though we do appreciate the care you've taken and the patience you've had with us. We are glad you arrived so soon because we wanted to tell you this in person. If I know anything, you work and study hard, and practice even harder. I don't want you to think we wasted your time.”

“Oh absolutely not. Education is never a waste of time. I've made a lot of discoveries that may not have been made had it not been for this task.”

“Glad to hear it. And since you've been so good to us, we're officially signing the house over to you.”

His eyes lit up, “Really? That...that's wonderful!”

“It's too painful for us to keep it anyway,” said Tova despairingly. “But with the kind of work you do, if it helps you, then we're happy to oblige.”

Romlyn and Vendras shared a pleased and grateful look with one another, both overjoyed. “I don't know what to say.”

“The pleasure is ours, Vendras. You are a kind person and you've been like a son to us. We'll work out the details with Jorleif at the palace tomorrow.” Tova and Torbjorn were happy to bring such joy to the elf couple. Vendras sent letters on occasion, but even in the text they could sense the nuance of romance. They were stunned that he opened up to anyone about personal affairs, and found it endearing, as though with the loss of their daughter, they had gained a son. They were very much unlike the rest of the Nords in Windhelm, and despite being one of the wealthiest families in Skyrim, they were benevolent.

Vendras and Romlyn thanked them profusely and shook their hands, though the Nords abandoned formality yet again and hugged them both. Vendras explained the other situation to them and they were very forgiving and understanding. They were not fans of Maven Black-Briar, and they didn't appreciate her using her money and power to threaten the lives and well-being of others, even if Romlyn did embezzle, the way it was handled was far from appropriate. Since it was Black-Briar, the Shatter-Shields turned the other cheek, and as the crime was not committed in their city, it was not an issue to them. As far as his vampirism, they were going to help Vendras pay for a carriage to take him to the conjurer in Morthal, Falion. In the meantime, they would make sure he was safe at Hjerim. Later on, they walked them home, still chit-chatting in the front yard when Romlyn's new vampire eyes perfectly honed in the shadows abruptly noticed a discreet mark on the house.

“Ven, you need to have a look at this,” he pushed aside the branches of an ornamental evergreen shrub revealing a symbol of a circle filled in with a rectangle and horizontal lines. Vendras didn't understand.

“What does it mean?” he inquired curiously, an incredulous expression on his face.

Romlyn scoffed irritably. “The damn Thieves Guild. It's a shadowmark.” He turned to the old Nord couple. “You're going to be robbed if you haven't been already. This symbol means you have been scoped out for valuables.”

Torbjorn's entire attitude changed for the worse. There was nothing more frightening than an infuriated burly bearded Nord, and it was common knowledge Maven ran the entire shitshow down in the Rift. “That wretched old crone! I will have her head on a platter!” He growled a strain of profanity as his wife attempted to calm him as he boomed in the street in the dead of night.

“I thank you for finding this,” Torbjorn said to Romlyn, his voice still rough from fury. “Neither of you ever need to worry about that bitch again, I'll make certain of it.” Tova wasn't fond of the idea of starting a war with the Black-Briars, but she knew there would be no swaying her husband now that they discovered her role in violating their well-being, even indirectly. They were her trained pets, and the Shatter-Shields would know vengeance, coming down on her entire lineage and her thugs like a warhammer.

Tova herded her volatile husband back into their home, swiftly bidding the elves good night and taking one final scathing gander at the now exposed marking on their home. As Vendras locked his own door behind him, he planted his back against the door and slid down it releasing a sigh for the ages.

“What in the name of Oblivion just happened?”

“I think I uninentionally just solved all of our problems,” Romlyn admired his new glowing eyes in the mirror above the wash basin, but irritated by how much deeper the lines in his face became due to his illness.

Vendras rubbed his forehead. “You realize we're going to have to help them, right?”

“Why?”

“Why? Romlyn, why? After everything we've been offered tonight, it wouldn't feel right. Besides, that, it's more than just a pissing match. You and I need to instill fear within Maven. She has to know we mean business in order for her to even remotely think about leaving you or I alone. As much as I'd love not to be involved, you need to remember this entire thing began with us.”

Romlyn's brow furrowed. “Yes, but it's an unrelated coincidence. She doesn't need to know we're the ones who noticed her pests marked the wealthiest home in Windhelm for loot. Any organization of thieves would have.”

“But she's not stupid, Romlyn. It's too convenient with both of us skipping town. She already knew I worked for them. Even though it's not our problem, she'll make it our problem. The timing is just poor right now for us.”

He shrugged. “I say we just leave it be. There's no logical reason to tie it into us.”

“But Romlyn...”

“We're here now, finally safe, and the Shatter-Shields have our backs and trust us fully. We already won this one, Ven.”

Vendras sighed again in frustration. He didn't know what more he could say, and he was annoyed by it. As he organized his mind, thoughts of his relationship with Romlyn occurred to him. He brought himself to his feet. “Romlyn.”

He found him at the dining room table wincing at a sip of ale. “What?” he sputtered, disappointed that he couldn't tolerate the flavors of any of his favorite foods or beverages, not really paying much mind to Vendras at that particular moment.

“Was this our first argument?”

Romlyn was so caught off guard by such a humorous suggestion, he nearly dropped the bottle as he burst into laughter. He didn't mean to laugh at Vendras, but in the midst of all of it, it was precious.

“What? Why are you laughing?” Vendras was offended.

He tried to calm himself, but chuckled between words. “I'm sorry Ven, I don't mean anything ill by it. But if you call that tiny disagreement an argument, I don't think we ever have anything to worry about.”

Vendras then cracked a smile. Perhaps he was being a tad irrational about the entire situation. Romlyn, with a smile ear to ear approached him, slipped his arms around his waist and gave him a kiss.

“We really are good for one another,” he said.

“I'm just tired. And I suppose I just want to be sure all of this is over and you're completely safe,” said Vendras.

“I know that.” Romlyn moved a loose strand of red hair behind his ear. “You've already done so much more than I deserve.”

Vendras inhaled deeply. “And we're still not done. We have to get to my friend in Morthal.”

Romlyn suddenly lost his footing and almost dropped to the floor.

“Are you all right?” Vendras caught him and helped him upright again.

“I'm sorry...I think I just got a little lightheaded.”

“It's the sickness. You're going to have a strong desire to feed on blood to keep the symptoms at bay. We have to get you medical attention as soon as possible.”

Nausea suddenly overwhelmed Romlyn's stomach, his throat tightened and his skin became clammy. “I think I'd have rathered death.”

“Come on,” Vendras escorted him upstairs to the bed room. “It's time to rest.” He stayed awake by his side for a time, dabbing his brow with damp cloth. After the negative symptoms subsided, Vendras crawled under the covers beside him. He was still completley drained from the long journey to Windhelm, as well as the rest of the night's events. It didn't take long before he also fell into slumber.

Vendras awoke later on from the sensation of Romlyn's barrage of kisses behind the ears and on his neck. The vampirism was progressing. He was becoming starved for blood, which meant he was stronger in some ways, and weaker in others...and also insatiably lustful. Vendras decided it wouldn't hurt to take advantage of this particular side effect before their journey the following day to cure him, and joined Romlyn in his affections. At least he was feeling better, and that was a sign he was much stronger than Vendras assumed, which came as a relief.

Vendras could feel Romlyn's erection against his backside. He could have sworn he was harder than usual, but nonetheless it was enticing. He rolled over to help rid him of his stubborn pants, yanking him towards him, and Romlyn released a satisfied chuckle as he kissed Vendras viciously, saber-like canines grazing his soft rosepetal lips, his flavor was sweet and aromatic like a fine wine. It proved difficult to fight the thirst as his sly tongue slithered over the artery in Vendras's neck, but he feared he would hurt him.

Vendras already anticipated that biting was inevitable once either of them reached climax, but especially if Vendras came, as the endorphins in the blood enhanced the taste. He already decided he wanted Romlyn to bite him as he'd already gone practically feral, and this excited Vendras. Those glowing orange eyes in the darkness, both ominous and alluring, screamed for lustful relief. But Romlyn could see his eyes too with his enhanced night vision, the desire; he was almost begging. He wanted to be inside him, but fought the urge. The game was just as fun. Suffocating Vendras with wanting kisses, Romlyn grabbed him by the girthy shaft, the tight hold forced an ecstatic yelp from the gasping Vendras. He stimulated him until Vendras pushed his hand away. He didn't want to release just yet. “You're wicked,” he panted.

“I know.” Romlyn began to delicately nibble at his neck and shoulder, then progressed to more aggressive gnawing, struggling to resist. He could not get over how the decadent flavor of his lover danced on his tastebuds.

Vendras knew what he wanted, and he wanted to give it to him. He rolled Romlyn onto his back and pinned his wrists aggressively. “I'm going to let you have your fill...but you have to be a good boy and cooperate with me.” He licked Romlyn's cheek slowly and with sinister intent, which drove him wild, and wilder still when his smoldering, velvety whisper entered his ear. “I want you to touch yourself. Will you do that for me?”

He squirmed beneath him. “Yes,” he rasped.

“Also,” Vendras traced Romlyn's lips with his tongue. “I'm going to penetrate you. Would you like that?”

Romlyn made an affirmative vocalization, vampire eyes ablaze like an inferno. Vendras freed his wrists to allow him to follow his commands. He kissed him hard in that moment to distract him from the force of his entry. Romlyn wasted no time stimulating himself as Vendras thrusted arduously against him, and it only took a few strokes before he expelled, the intensity from which made him lunge, moaning uncontrollably. His primal groans only excited Vendras more, increasing the intensity of the sensations in his loins until he erupted with ecstasy. He could not stifle a beastlike moan.

Romlyn Dreth's eyes widened with demented hunger as he caught a whiff of Vendras's blood. He lost control of himself and grabbed Vendras, latching himself onto his throat like a famished sabre cat. Vendras yelped with both pain and pleasure as he endured the rest of his orgasmic pulses and the stinging puncture of fangs buried deep within his flesh. Romlyn feasted. He had never tasted a sweeter treat. Following a few gulps of his lover's blood, he grew more docile, and soon he released him, sanguine rivers flowed over Vendras's collar bone and over his heaving chest, the lovers both lost themselves in ecstasy. Romlyn wiped the blood from his lips and chin and licked the delectable substance from his fingers. But after he came to his senses he felt terrible. “Are you all right?” I didn't hurt you, did I?”

Vendras snorted and smiled. “Don't worry about me. I wanted it.” He placed a kiss upon Romlyn's brow.

The Dunmer couple took a few moments to clean themselves up before enjoying each other's comfort in bed. The effects of intimacy still coursed through him, and in his state of high emotion, Romlyn couldn't help but admire the handsome elf beside him. It was surreal to feel that much love for someone. But there was one feature that still piqued his curiosity and he could not get it out of his mind every time he looked at Vendras. He lightly brushed the group of three raised, textured scars on Vendras's cheek with his fingertips which made him wince. He could see his red eyes darting around nervously in the darkness, but never directly at him, as he really didn't want him to bring up the topic of his markings.

Romlyn detected his self-consciousness. "I think they're beautiful, Ven. They make you you. Are you ever going to tell me how you got them?"

Vendras sighed. It was something he had been thinking about for awhile. He wasn't sure if Romlyn would be ready to hear it. But if he didn't tell him, would there ever be a right time again? He still felt strongly emotional from their session. If they were already so close and so at ease, why should it be so difficult to tell Romlyn who he really is?

"I can see it causes you grief," he said. "If you aren't comfortable saying anything, it's fine." His gravelly voice adopted a tender tone, but it was obvious the inquiry was still present. He did not want to cross that boundary with Vendras if it would hurt him.

"No...listen." Vendras, though reluctant, was austere as he pondered a moment to fully decide if he wanted to continue and composed his thoughts. "You...you have a right to know me—all of me—if we're going to make this work.”

“Ven, you don't have to...”

“My surviving relatives fled to Cyrodiil after the eruption of Red Mountain,” he began as he disregarded Romlyn's plea. “I was born there. When I was a child, I lost my parents to an attack from a rogue group of Imperial soldiers on a self-indulgent mission to purify all of Tamriel. I was old enough to understand, but still much too young to endure such tragedy..."

Romlyn listened intently, but the unexpected revelation shocked him. He still wanted to know. He wanted to know every last detail so that he could feel what his lover felt. He was an enigma ever since the day they met, even though they got on well and had fun and enjoyed one another, they were missing something on a higher level. Vendras must have realized it as well. He squeezed him more tightly in his arms to let him know that he would accept anything he threw his way.

"After witnessing the merciless slaughter of my mother and father, I knew what had to be done. I spent much of my youth in an orphanage in Cyrodiil until they decided what they wanted to do with me. Sell me to slavery or let me come of age then dump me into the world with no knowledge, no skill. I took matters into my own hands. It was a cruel place for children. It was mixed race. Argonians, Dunmer, Nords, Bretons, Khajiit...no Imperial children through. Not one. Just those of us deemed lesser beings, especially our kind. I had great friends there and I hope to this day they got out of that shit hole and made something of themselves as I have...and I truly hope I was their hero after I did what I did..."

Romlyn's heart broke as Vendras spoke, but he made not a sound. Vendras took a deep breath and continued. He was much too far in to stop now.

“When they sent me to do work in town, I stole spell tomes from sorcerers. I'd taken an interest in magic, the power that it provided...wielding all the might of the world in the palms of my hands. Invigorating! I even had a secret hiding place under the floorboards beneath my cot so that I could read at night...the words my brain ingested were too intense for young minds...I'd sneak away to apply my practices. Unfortunately, many small animals were made victims...but all for the greater good in my juvenile mind. My ultimate goal was to seek out the Imperials who murdered my family in cold blood, but there were individuals who needed my immediate attention. The orphanage keepers, an Imperial couple, were hateful, pitiful beings. They treated the children worse than animals...”

Romlyn combed his fingers through Vendras's satiny hair, but as he told his tale, he could not help but look directly at those marks on his cheek, picturing himself as Vendras so he could try to empathize with him.

“I needed to escape that prison. I lured the orphanage keepers out and they took chase until we came upon the abandoned structure in the forest outside town I used to practice my dark magic. I had it all planned ahead of time. I was too quick for them, so I waited within, and when they reached the threshold I knocked them both out with a broken board from the structure. Thrill coursed through my body. I bound them and waited for them to awaken. They were a husband and wife, both barren and resentful of existing children...they treated me and my friends terribly and I hated them. The fear they instilled in those children was the very fear on their faces at that moment when they awakend to see young Vendras Volur looming over them, Dunmer eyes aflame. I wanted them conscious. I wanted them to suffer my wrath. I raised my hands and conjured a cyclone of flames. I burned them alive. I can still hear their piercing screams...the fire had burned the ropes that bound them and they tried to escape the blaze. The Imperial woman lunged at me...her burning talons scraped across my face, simultaneously cutting and blistering my skin from the sweltering heat...I'll never forget the terror in her embered eyes and the agonizing howls of her husband...and the smell...I watched them writhe until their lives ended, their charred bodies laid in fetal slumps on the floor where they died.”

It was excruciating for him to recall the events...it had been so many years since he buried it away and now he had to dig it up. He never once thought he'd ever have to resurrect those memories. He could feel every emotion as though he was back there again, tears flooded his eyes.

“Oh...Vendras...” Romlyn Dreth was rendered speechless.

“I never did find the ones who murdered my family, Romlyn. I no longer desired revenge after what I had done. There is much more to the story,” Vendras's voice wavered. “But not now...I can't. That day I learned that kind of vengeance doesn't solve problems...it doesn't bring anyone back. It is ugly and filled with malice and I'm better than that...and ever since then I vowed to use my skills for good, dark as they may be...I caused death...and I now have a passion for death and rebirth. That's how I became a necromancer...that's why high class people such as the Shatter-Shields seek out my services. My past is only speculation to everyone I meet. I welcome the creative backstories curious people assign to me...anything to mask the person I used to be. I told you...I'm a terrifying person...I've hurt so many people in my blind rage.”

Romlyn Dreth, moved by these revelations, caressed those scars again and delicately kissed each one of the clawmarks seared into his flesh. He understood they were Vendras's constant reminder of who never to be.

“I'm not afraid of you Vendras Volur, and I never will be. The person you were, is not the person you are now. You are caring and kind and full of love...and I have all the proof I need of that. I've never seen such a selfless person in all my life. I wish I could be half the man you are.”

Vendras buried his face into Romlyn's neck. He was too emotionally burnt out to look him in the eyes, and if he had he would have broken down. It was difficult for him to believe anyone could love him so carelessly, but he was glad for someone to confide in. It actually relieved him to to open up. Romlyn stroked his hair and held him against his bare chest. He didn't have to say anything. Being with him in that moment was more than enough for Vendras to realize he should have trusted his love with his darkness all along.

“Vendras?” Romlyn spoke after a few moments of deafening silence.

“Hmm?”

Romlyn swallowed hard, reluctant to speak what was on his mind that moment, but he wondered if there would ever be an appropriate time with their feelings all in disarray. Regardless, he took the plunge. He remained silent, as the action would speak for itself, and from beneath the pillow he revealed an amulet he had hidden there earlier in the day, which he then dangled before Vendras.

Vendras leaned up on his arm, examining the item, uncertain of what emotions to feel or express. “Romlyn...”

“I wanted to surprise you tonight, but I was hoping for better circumstances. Actually, I really wanted to do this awhile ago, but I thought it was much too soon...maybe it's still too soon, but after everything...from the moment I met you, I just knew. After everything tonight...now I know for certain.”

Vendras took the Amulet of Mara and pored over the surreal object, feeling the rings of the chain between his fingertips, admiring the indentations and smooth turquoise gem at the center of the charm with his thumbs.

“If you're not ready for this, just forge—”

“Yes.” Vendras said softly, pulling the amulet over his head, and looking into the glowing vampiric eyes of Romlyn Dreth. _“Os daelha ohn. Marik.”_ He kissed him for a long time, rivers of tears squeezing uncontrollably from beneath his closed eyelids as he struggled to keep them contained. Romlyn could feel them falling on his cheeks. “I'm here for you,” he embraced him tightly. “I'm not going anywhere.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So regarding the Amulet of Mara, how it was used seemed like nothing more than a game mechanic in Skyrim. Instead of just simply wearing it to signify you're single and looking, it made more sense to use it as an item to bestow a proposal. It made it feel a bit more reasonable to me.


	12. Chapter 12

Romlyn fell asleep quickly after they spoke. Vendras remained awake with much on his mind. He felt blessed that Romlyn was alive, but he wondered what would have happened if he'd left a day sooner or later, if the outcome would have been the same. Someone was in the right place at the right time, he considered the possibility it may not have been a coincidence. However, the bandit attack could not have been predicted. Either way, Vendras found solace knowing that someone saved him, but lamented that he wasn't the one to protect him, among a plethora of other thoughts and memories that plagued his brain. What mattered now was the road to Morthal, and hopefully the journey would go smoothly. Vendras eventually fretted himself to sleep.

He must have worried for a long time, as he slept in late. He awakened to Romlyn gently nudging his shoulder. "Vendras, my dear. It's time to get up."

He sat up quickly, disoriented. "Oh no! We didn't miss the carriage did we?"

"It's okay relax. We have plenty of time. I could sense you had a restless night and I didn't want to bother you. Don't panic just yet. We still have time to meet with the Shatter-Shields and the steward and also have a bite to eat before we leave."

Vendras released an alleviated breath. He dressed silently which concerned Romlyn.

"It's there something you want to talk about?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" asked Vendras as he fastened a leather carrying pouch around his shoulder.

"Vendras, I know when something is bothering you. Honestly, you're not very good at hiding it. I woke up a few times, you know. I saw you. I could feel you."

Vendras sighed again. He knew Romlyn was right. "In due time, my love. After we speak to Falion and obtain a black soul gem from him, we have another stop to make."

"Okay." Romlyn, though unsatisfied, knew that was the only thing he was going to get out of him at the present time.

"Do you have everything you need?" Vendras said after hiking a decently sized knapsack onto his back.

"Yes I think so. You?"

"I think so."

The pair met with Tova next door, who gave them a coin purse with enough gold for a roundtrip, and some extra for necessities. They first stopped to load up their luggage onto the carriage that was waiting for them, then they arrived at the Palace of Kings to file the official transfer paperwork for Hjerim with Tova and Torbjorn. “Good to see you again, Vendras,” greeted Jorleif, the steward. The process went fairly quick and simple. Torbjorn took notice of the amulet adorning Vendras's neck.

“You're engaged?” he questioned? “When did this happen?”

“Hmm?” Vendras wasn't paying much attention right away as he focused on writing his signature. “Oh...just last night, actually.” A air of pride wafted from him.

“Congratulations, my boy!” he landed a hefty Nord pat on the back that nearly knocked him off balance. Vendras was big for a dark elf, but Torbjorn was still bigger.

Jorleif passed a sidways grin. “Perhaps you'd like Master Dreth to sign the deed as well?”

Vendras glanced at Romlyn, who was taken by surprise. “Would you like to?”

“Ven...I couldn't. I...are you sure?”

Vendras shrugged. “I don't see the harm.”

“It's your decision...” Romlyn felt like he was stepping on his toes.

Vendras slid the parchment and the quill to him without a second thought. “Go ahead.”

“Oh...wow...um...thank you.”

After all was said and done, they thanked Jorleif and the Shatter-Shields and bid them a final farewell before the trip to Morthal. As they walked to Candlehearth hall just down the street for something to eat and drink, Romlyn took Vendras's hand in his.

“You didn't have to do that, you know,” he said squeezing tightly.

“I wanted to. If anything happens to me, I want you to have something nice.”

Romlyn didn't have a response, but he certainly didn't like the dark implications. It was obvious Vendras still wasn't himself after his tell-all from the previous night.

The owner of Candlehearth, Elda Early-Dawn, who hated the Dunmer plaguing her city, was none too thrilled when Vendras Volur entered her establishment with yet another Dunmer, but out of respect for the Shatter-Shields she maintained peace with him per their request. The fact she found him frightening was another story entirely, but she didn't trust him, and she certainly didn't trust the obviously afflicted elf with him, which deepened her suspicions. However, most other denizens of Windhelm were delighted to see Vendras back at home and welcomed him kindly. He never hurt anyone or caused trouble, so they didn't see any reason to dislike him, as he always treated everyone with kindness. All the same, the coin was still gold, so Elda tended to them anyway without a single impolite or sardonic word.

The Dunmer couple waited patiently to be served, meanwhile Rolff Stone-Fist could not pass by them without a thing or two to say, for he was also insensitive toward the Dunmer population within the city. He'd been warned to never said anything to Vendras before, but seeing yet another new grayskin face in his town irked him deeply, and he would no longer be silenced.

“Vendras! Vendras Volur!” his voice was malicious and taunting.

He'd already overheard his vile words towards his kind plenty of times before, he could only imagine where this was going to go.

Vendras rolled his eyes, but chose not to feed into it.

“I'm talking to you, you grayskin bastard!”

Romlyn became engraged to the point he wanted to throw fists, but Vendras tugged him back into his seat. “Don't bother,” he said quietly to him. “He's a jerk.” But he couldn't help but feel a tinge of vexation either as Rolff continued to antagonize them.

“Hasn't been around in months, then shows up again with yet another grayskin. Using all our resources, affecting our economy. Making it harder for all of us! Probably some kind of Imperial spy—”

That was the phrase that triggered Vendras. Mentally exhausted, and physically drained, against his own beliefs and to everyone's surprise, he snapped. It all happened so quickly, Romlyn couldn't stop him as he shoved Rolff into the opposing wall, pinning him with his forearm, baring teeth like a wolf.

“You dare speak to me in such a manner?! You know nothing of pain! Having your cock stuck in your family goat every night doesn't count!"

Romlyn didn't bother to try to pull him off because he would not have been strong enough in his enraged state, but he tried his best to calm him, completely mortified by how he lost control. "Ven, please! He's just a worthless _s'wit_. Let him go. It's not worth it. Let's go to the Cornerclub in the Gray Quarter for food instead."

"I will not be treated as a second class citizen by this primitive goatfucker!" he hissed, forcing his forearm deeper into Rolff's neck, the much smaller Nord's face changing color from shades of red to purple. "The only real home I've ever known has been Skyrim. I love my home. I would never defy her! _You_ take her for granted!"

The rest of the patrons in the tavern looked on as Rolff struggled pitifully to break Vendras's powerful hold, terror on his face as volcanic red eyes mere inches away from his face glared into his very soul. Vendras was respected by many in the city and it came as a shock to see the typically quiet and reserved Dunmer take such rare form.

Romlyn tugged at his bicep, knowing it was the Imperial comment that struck the chord. "There's no way he can know the agony they've caused you. Please Ven...I want to make it to Morthal...I don't want trouble." 

The hurt and sadness and slight tinge of fear in his lover's voice grounded Vendras. His heart still beat with fury, but he released Rolff right away at his fiancé's request.

Vendras could smell a pungent stench. He looked Rolff up and down and it turned out that he pissed himself, judging by the stain down the front of his trousers and the puddle still forming by his shoe.

“Clean yourself up, you wretch." Vendras spat at his feet.

Elda Early-Dawn screamed at the grayskins to get out of her tavern, but Brunwulf Free-Winter who stood by to witness the entire thing stood up for Vendras.

“Come on, Elda! You saw it with your own eyes! Rolff instigated this entire thing!”

“I'm tired of these deplorable grayskins causing trouble in my tavern! And Vendras holed up in his house day in and day out! What in Oblivion is he doing in there?”

Brunwulf boomed. “Vendras alone has done more good for our fair city than any of you collectively and you damn well know it! He wasn't doing anything but trying to have lunch before this freeloading cuckold got in his face!”

"Don't worry. We were just leaving." Vendras spitefully tossed a handful of coins at Elda, some struck her, the rest scattered and rolled in various directions. “For your troubles.” He despised that despicable, hateful woman. “Keep your dogs in line.”

Still burning with rage, he slammed the door behind them as he stormed out onto the street. He'd lost his appetite, but decided they should walk to the New Gnisis Cornerclub instead.

"Vendras... you're trembling." Romlyn never saw Vendras this way before. He hadn't released his tight grasp on his arm.

"I'll be fine. I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."

“You haven't been right lately. I'm really worried about you.”

“I'm sorry Romlyn. It's just...it's something I have to do. I can't talk about it.”

Brunwulf had left the tavern and caught up to them to apologize on behalf of Elda and Rolff. “Are you all right Vendras? The way they treat you...it's just unacceptable. No one else would have put up with it as long as you have.”

“I'm quite all right, Brunwulf. Thank you. You didn't need to do that.”

Brunwulf shook his head. “You're a good man, Vendras. Just hate to see anyone go through that.”

“You are too kind,” Vendras said.

Brunwulf wished a better day to the pair, and continued with them to the Cornerclub. The food and drink was better there anyway. He'd donated a fair share of coin so the Dunmer in the Gray Quarter could pay for remodeling and repairs. So far it was coming along nicely.

The atmosphere of the Cornerclub was humble, but much warmer and far more welcoming. Vendras wondered why he didn't visit more often. He supposed it was because being around his kind with little knowledge of his own culture made him feel even more like a lonely outcast. He preferred it anyway. Had it not been for Romlyn Dreth entering his life and opening him up, he would have huddled alone in an inn with his beverage and his books.

Even though the barkeep Ambarys Rendar was very hospitable, it didn't take long for Vendras to remember why he didn't like this particular tavern, as dusty and tattered Imperial flags hung on the wall. He wasn't sure his appetite would return now, but if it kept them away from the bigots at Candlehearth, he would turn the other cheek at those looming, malignant dragon crests.

Ambarys served them and Vendras forced some food down to replenish his energy, though the gnarled distress in the pit of his stomach made him want to vomit. Romlyn did his best to do the same in his condition. They both could tell that Ambarys was offended by the way they reluctantly handled their meals, so Vendras left behind a few extra coins as somewhat of an apology. It was time to go.


	13. Chapter 13

Several hours passed on the road to the west, and several more long hours awaited them. The Skyrim weather was as vicious as ever, the frigid air nipped at the Dunmer pair in the rear of the covered carriage, but the precipitation could not touch them. Romlyn felt sick, tired, and bored as he drowsily huddled deep within his thick woolen robes as close as he possibly could to Vendras to sap his warmth. He nodded off a few times on his shoulder, but the occasional loving peck on the temple from Vendras would summon him back to the earthly plane.

The carriage driver attempted small talk when they first set out, but gave the Dunmer their space once he realized they were a romantic couple, periodically offering necessities and rest stops and doing his best to accommodate his passengers.

Romlyn adjusted his body, stiff from sitting too long in one position, and settled his head into the crook of his lover's neck, releasing a dogged out breath. “I'm not feeling so good, Ven,” he said weakly.

“I know.” Vendras massaged Romlyn's neck beneath his hood. “Your body wants a fix, much like an addiction. Drinking blood makes the bad feelings go away.”

“You know a lot about this stuff,” he said nonchalantly with a yawn.

Even though he didn't mean anything by it, the statement still made Vendras nervous. He didn't say anymore on the topic.

As darkness settled in, so did the glacial cold. Even the Nordic carriage driver shivered. It was time for him to take a rest as well. The beefy man in heavy fur unraveled his bedroll onto the rock solid ground to settle in for a nap, but Vendras didn't think it appropriate for their chauffer to sleep on the frozen ice exposed to the harsh elements.

“Please, come inside the carriage,” he offered. “It isn't much, but the wind won't remove your breath.”

“Ah, Master Vendras, I could not.”

“I insisit. Come on. Plenty of room. We'll make a fire and have a bite to eat.”

The driver shrugged and moved his bedroll to the floor of the carriage.

“I didn't catch your name earlier,” said Vendras. 

“Wulfgaar,” he said gruffly. His voice was rough, but he was kind. Simple, but kind.

There were a few split logs and kindling in Wulfgaar's supply chest. Vendras took it upon himself to build the fire just outside of the back of the carriage, so they may absorb and contain the warmth within their meager carriage shelter. Vendras stretched his long and bony fingers and fashioned them into a peculiar gnarled orientation over the temporary firepit, igniting intense flames from the center of his palm. The kindling went up instantly and it wasn't long before the logs were hot enough to catch as well.

Wulfgaar was both pleased and impressed. “I never could get the hang of that magic stuff. Although, I can't read very well.”

“It doesn't matter how you learn, as long as the result is the same.” Vendras smiled kindly.

The rainbow of auroras above tried to peek through the hazy clouds as they roasted some meats and potatoes over the fire. They chatted casually a bit, but Romlyn Dreth remained abnormally quiet, luminous vampire eyes like embers glowing from the dark corner of the carriage. It was too hot closer to the fire, so he found himself a comfortable spot where he remained temperate.

“Are you feeling all right, Romlyn?” Vendras asked, but the only response was an apprehensive grunt as his long elf ears wiggled, honing in to the sounds of the nocturnal wilderness. Vendras hushed Wulfgaar and listened with him, but he didn't hear anything, though he tried.

“We're in danger,” Romlyn said softly.

Vendras trusted his judgment, as the vampire curse heightens the senses. An arctic breeze blew the heat from the fire away and chilled Vendras through the fabric of his robes.

“Wulfgaar,” Vendras whispered. “You need to stay with the horses, round them up if they get spooked...but don't fight unless you have no other option. We need you. I'll handle it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Romlyn's nose wriggled like a hare's as he sniffed the air. “Do you smell that?”

Vendras and Wulfgaar both caught a whiff of something faint and unpleasant.

“It smells like...” Romlyn sniffed more aggressively. “...it smells like...like a wet dog...but...ugh! Rotten!”

There were many creatures in the wilderness that could smell like wet dog. Wolves, bears, werewolves, actual dogs...but only one fur bearing creature with a rancid odor.

“Troll,” said Vendras. He was not as worried now, but also did not want to underestimate the might of the heavy-handed ape-like beast. He listened again and now could hear faint growls. The aroma from the food or quite possibly the sweat of the horse team most likely caught its attention.

The trio sat still and quiet like the dead, but it was only a matter of time before the troll found them. With its three eyes, it would never miss the golden glow of the fire and it was already too late to douse it. The beastly snarls grew louder and louder, the horses tensed up with unease, sputtering and clapping their hooves on the ground as the monster drew nearer to them. It was just too close for comfort now.

Vendras waved his hand as he did with the flames and conjured a sword, then leapt from the back of the carriage. Wulfgaar did the same and tended to his horses as Vendras instructed, and Romlyn followed behind, to Vendras's dismay.

“No! You need to keep yourself safe!” he insisted.

“I'm not letting you fight a battle without me. I can hold my own.”

“Romlyn...” before Vendras could protest, Romlyn yanked him by the collar to his lips and kissed him fiercely. “I'll be fine. Trust me.” He'd raised his hands like Vendras had before, igniting flames within his palms. Vendras couldn't help but smile, both surprised and impressed. He never expected Romlyn to know destruction magic, let alone maintain the concentration to dual wield it.

The troll soon came crashing through the brush, cracking frozen tree limbs and upsetting the hard ice and snow. It snorted and stomped irritably, and Vendras lunged at the beast, swinging his glowing ethereal blade. He landed a few cuts, but the hide of the troll was thick and tough. Romlyn directed his flames at the beast, but it quickly spent his magicka. It took a toll on the beast, but it furiously patted the flames on its body out, revealing charred and blistered hide. Romlyn tossed his robes aside for better mobility and yanked a dagger from his belt. Vendras continued to swing, jab, and dodge the gangly arms of the troll for as long as he could before his phantasmal weapon faded back to Oblivion. Romlyn charged at the monster with a mighty warcry and jumped onto his back, plunging his dagger into the side of its furry neck before it bucked him onto the hard ground. It struggled and panicked to remove the weapon before it fell, convulsing with the final throes of fading life.

Romlyn crawled back to Vendras, panting. The fall had knocked the wind out of him. He retrieved his weapon and disgustedly cleaned the sticky blackish blood on the patch of bristly fur that remained. The creature smelled even worse up close, and moreso with its fluids spilled everywhere.

Vendras helped Romlyn to his feet and redressed him with the wool cloak he tossed aside.

The frightened horses had ran down the road a bit, but Wulfgaar managed to wrangle them up and bring them back. After gathering themselves following the attack, the Dunmer pair allowed Wulfgaar to rest so that they could travel as soon as possible, while they remained awake to keep watch. They could sleep during the trip. It didn't take the simple Nord long to fall into a deep slumber, snoring away as though he was sawing a log.

Vendras laid across Romlyn's lap and as he played with his hair, recalled the vicious dark elf upon the back of the troll. He turned to look up at him. “You were incredible.”

Romlyn didn't stop combing his fingers through his soft hair. “I had to protect you.”

“And destruction magic? I had no idea.”

Romlyn shrugged. “Eh, it's nothin'.”

“Nothing? You have a knack for magic. Were you taught?”

“Self taught,” he said. "All Dunmer have the fire of Morrowind within us, it's just a matter of putting it to use."

Vendras chuckled approvingly, still very impressed by Romlyn's ability in a critical situation. “Perhaps when we get you all fixed up and get back to Windhelm—of course if you would like to—I could teach you more?”

Romlyn smiled and sighed through his nose. “Yeah, maybe you could. Whatever makes you happy, Ven.”

Vendras's entire body tingled with the sensation he had when he first met Romlyn. With love, not unlike magic, there was always more to learn, more to appeal to one's sense of astonishment. He gave in to his insatiable urge to kiss him in that moment.

Romlyn made a sultry noise in the back of his throat. “Hmm...Ven.” Vendras's hand groped at his inner thigh. “You really wanna mess around with Crunk sleeping right here?” Romlyn nodded in the direction of the contently snoozing Wulfgaar.

“He's out. He won't hear a thing,” Vendras nibbled on Romlyn's lower lip.

“I don't know when you got so bad, Ven...but I like it.”

“We'll be quick, just in case.” Vendras winked as he undid Romlyn's pants. He was already half erect, and it took but a gentle wind to make him fully erect. Vendras's slick tongue slithered up the shaft to the sensitive tip, making Romlyn shudder. It only took a few strokes of his tongue before he could taste the salty preejaculate, then he wrapped his lips around the end and suctioned gently at first, his hand grasping the base, pulling upward with each motion of his mouth. He picked up the pace, squeezing a bit tighter, he could feel Romlyn's entire body tense up. In no time at all, he lost all self control and came with a helpless yelp. Vendras could feel the savory warm liquid filling up his inner cheek, and he could not help but be chuffed with himself as he ingested it.

“Oh fuck...Ven...” Romlyn panted, rubbing his eyes and brow from sheer delight, doing anything he could to come back down from his high. “Just...give me a moment.”

“Don't keep me waiting.” Vendras unfastened his own trousers and stimulated himself slowly. Coherent enough to continue, Romlyn tossed the blanket over Vendras and took over for him.

“I know you're hungry,” Vendras whispered. “I'll let you feed again. It will help you feel a bit better.”

“You're so generous,” Romlyn gnawed at the tender flesh just below Vendras's defined jawline. “I'm more worried about pleasing you right now,” he said softly so as not to wake the slumbering giant on the floor of the carriage beneath them. The heartbeat of Vendras echoed in his ears like a war drum.

“Don't stop,” Vendras moaned when Romlyn discovered the perfect stroking rhythm.

“I want you to come,” Romlyn said seductively in his ear, then bit at the lobe, the warmth throughout his entire body made him squirm. His perfect touch aggravated all of Vendras's senses, building up in his groin area until he could no longer hold back. His hand clapped to his mouth as he cried out in intense climax, and Romlyn clenched more snugly to tease him in his heightened state of feeling, the warm rivers of ejaculate drizzled between his fingers. The saccharine aroma of his blood provoked his vampiric appetite, but he controlled himself this time, and bit gently, taking a small fill. Vendras writhed from the overwhelming assortment of sensations, but he loved it, another uncontrollable squirt erupted from him. He could feel Romlyn's lips on his neck curve into a satisfied smile, happy to appease his lover's desires. He whispered something to Vendras in Dunmeris that he couldn't make out, but he loved that too.

“I'm so sorry,” Vendras gasped. “I don't know what came over me.”

Romlyn raised an arched white eyebrow, and wiped the blood from his lips on his sleeve, and cleaned the semen from his hands with a cloth from their knapsack. “Why should you apologize? You're just being natural.”

“The timing was a bit...off.” His eyes fixated on Wulfgaar as he tucked himself back into his pants. The oaf hadn't heard a thing.

Romlyn waved dismissively. “He doesn't care. We probably fabricated a nice wet dream for him though.”

Vendras chortled.

“Listen,” Romlyn said. “When everything is back to normal and we've returned to our own home, don't think for a second we're not going to go at it in every single room of the house.”

The idea didn't sound half bad. “You're right.” They fell silent briefly.

“Vendras.”

“Yes, _yi daelha_?”

“I love being close to you like this. I love having this level of trust and acceptance.”

Vendras wasn't entirely sure what he meant, but he remained silent.

“I never knew I could feel like this for anyone. Being intimate with you is like going on a spiritual journey. Of course we all have carnal needs but...I _crave_ you. Never had that with anyone else.”

Vendras discovered stars winking at them through the slit in the canvas of the carriage cover. The skies were finally completely clear and the auroras danced like translucent flames against the glimmering heavens. “I feel the same.”


	14. Chapter 14

The greenish glow of the wispy ignis fatuus hovered eerily over the swamp, faded by the rays of the dawn sun, the damp air fragrant with the earthy aroma of fungus, molds, and other wetland foliage. Situated at the center of the wetlands lay Morthal. They finally made it, and thankfully without much more trouble save for the bitter Skyrim cold and the delay of a broken wagon wheel, which was repaired timely and with ease.

Vendras inhaled the fresh air deeply, relieved that they were one step closer to curing Romlyn's illness. It wasn't much warmer here, as flat slices of ice floated on top of the water, in fact the dampness gave the area a different factor of chilling. He helped Romlyn from the back of the carriage and thanked Wulfgaar for all his hard work. He said he would wait for them until they took care of their duties in town, then transport them to the next desired location, as requested by the Shatter-Shields. Vendras handed him a hefty coinpurse and suggested he get a proper meal and a room at the inn for the trouble.

Vendras, with Romlyn's arm in his, walked up the wooden stairs to the pier which led to the conjurer Falion's home, footsteps clunking on the thick boards. Some were slippery with green moss. Romlyn pulled his hood farther over his eyes as the miserable sun began to refract through the morning haze.

Vendras knocked on the door. He heard shuffling inside and the voices of children. A preteen Nord girl answered the door. Her brown eyes became as wide as platters at the sight of him.

"Agni! My have you grown!" Vendras smiled wide, showing straight white teeth.

"It's Uncle Vendras! Papa Falion come quick, it's Uncle Vendras! He has a friend!" The child made to throw her arms around him in an embrace, but was interrupted when a Nord boy with blond hair and blue eyes shoved her out of the way somewhat aggressively.

"Ouch! Virkmund, you jerk! I saw him first!"

"Children, please!" A man with dark brown skin and a thick Redguard accent commanded from the corner of the room. "By all means show enthusiasm, but let's not be unreasonable."

"Sorry Falion," the boy and girl said in unison.

Agni, Falion's adopted child, got her chance to hug Vendras, squeezing as tightly as her frail child frame would allow. He remained with his arms outstretched for Virkmund, but the boy stood there looking embarrassed.

"Ah I understand," Vendras said kindly. "You're a man now. How about a firm handshake instead?"

The boy mustered a half smile and accepted, trying his best to crush Vendras's hand to establish just how "manly" he now was.

"Stand aside, children. Time to go play outside. Vendras will be more than happy to catch up with you later." Falion knew the exact nature of his friend's visit. He did not want his young daughter and her friend to be frightened.

Agni and Virkmund did as their mentor told without hesitation.

"Let me get a good look at this ol' elf," said Falion. Unlike the juvenile boy, he had no masculinity to prove, and he embraced his longtime friend tightly. "I had no idea you were coming. What a pleasant surprise. So good to see you."

"It has been a long time, hasn't it?"

"Far too long!" The Redguard mage laughed. "Oh what is this?" He took notice of the pendant peeking through the collar of his friend's robes, pulling it out delicately with his index finger. "Vendras Volur, you cheeky devil. How dare you not write to me and tell me!"

"My apologies dear friend, but honestly it just happened recently. Speaking of which, there's someone I'd love for you to meet." He beckoned for Romlyn to come to the forefront, and he lowered his hood, though Falion's reaction was comically incredulous.

"Meet my fiancé, Romlyn Dreth."

Falion shook Romlyn's hand with both of his. "My pleasure, sir. You're a very lucky man." He was not shy about gawking at his vampiric appearance, however.

"Although...we seem to have a bit of an...issue..." Vendras trailed off.

Falion sighed in annoyance. "Indeed you do. I thought I could smell the undeath when you walked in. Yep. That's a vampire all right."

Romlyn picked up the nuance of scholarly high-horseness from the two conjurers. "By Azura, I'm not a test subject. I'm a person, for crying out loud!"

Vendras choked. "So sorry, dear!"

Falion continued to examine Romlyn, circling around him, checking his teeth and using a jewelers loupe to look into his bizzare orange and gold eyes. Vampirism was Falion's passion and his specialty, and he did tend to forget that they were indeed still people with feelings and not livestock at an auction. A love of science and learning overrode empathy sometimes.

"I don't suppose you have a...black soul gem on hand?" Vendras asked apprehensively as he knew how protective Falion was of his belongings, especially things that were very expensive and rare.

"Who wants to know?!" The dark-skinned Redguard joked.

Romlyn Dreth had quite enough of this as he irritably crossed his arms.

"Okay, I'll be serious," he said. "I do happen to have a black soul gem, conveniently enough."

Vendras began to pull coin from his robe pockets.

"Put that away!" Falion demanded. "By the gods, you know I'll always make exceptions for you, Vendras Volur. And since this involves the love of your life, I'll be extra generous...even though I'm still sore you never wrote me any letters these past two years." The robed man jammed a key into a lockbox in his drawer and removed a purplish gem, handling it with great care. "You seem to have this problem frequently Vendras. Perhaps I should teach you the ritual and incantation."

"Hopefully this will be the last time."

"If it involves you, Vendras, I know it probably won't be."

Vendras shot him a look, and he immediately understood, so he stayed on track with the plan. "You know what to do. Fill the gem with a humanoid soul, return to me, and we'll do the thing."

"Thank you, Falion. This means so much to me."

Falion smiled and shared a glance with Romlyn. "I know it does. The only favor I ask in return is that you don't just come to me when you need something. I want to catch up. The brats ask all the time if you sent any letters. They look forward to hearing from you."

Vendras did feel an overwhelming sense of regret. "I've been a terrible friend and I've been selfish."

Falion frowned. "Terrible friend, yes. Selfish, no. That doesn't sound like a character trait of Vendras Volur."

Vendras took some comfort from his words, even if he was taking a jab at him. It's just how he was.

"Now go do what you have to do and get back soon. I'd like to talk more with this one here when he's a bit more...lively," he pointed to Romlyn.

Vendras slipped the black soul gem into a soft pouch before placing it securely in his pocket. The Dunmer pair bid Falion goodbye and went outside. The intense morning sun made Romlyn's blood boil. He was already irritable, but moreso because he knew Vendras had been hiding a secret from him. Though he wanted to, saying something at that moment didn't seem like it would be worth it.

"Why are you frowning, my darling?"

Romlyn used the sun as his excuse, but Vendras, though he couldn't pinpoint exactly what was wrong with his lover, also wasn't completely clueless that he was frustrated.

"Don't mind Falion. He's a a sarcastic prick, but he means well. We go way back. I studied conjuration with him at the Winterhold College. He was my mentor. We both left, however. The leadership was...subpar."

"I'm sorry," the shorter Dunmer apologized. "I'm just getting all worked up. I don't know what's going on and this condition is stressful. I have no idea what happens next and I think you're being a bit inconsiderate towards me, being as I'm the one with an ailment and I think I deserve to know what's going on."

Vendras stopped in his tracks. "Oh...oh Romlyn. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me!" He placed his hands on Romlyn's cheeks and drew his face close to his so he could look him dead in the eye. "I promise you, I'm not keeping you in the dark for much longer. You absolutely do deserve to know everything, but I have a very good reason for it. I always have a reason, you know that. Do you trust me, my love?"

Even though the situation still irked him, Romlyn could not look into the soft-hearted expression of Vendras and stay angry. "Well of course I trust you, Ven."

Vendras embraced his fiancé. "I know all of this has been hard on you and I'm sorry things didn't go as planned. I wish you could have made it to Windhelm like flying colors. I'm so sorry for all of this."

Romlyn kissed his cheek. "I'm the one who should apologize. You've done nothing but try to help me, even when I don't deserve it. I should be in jail right now...and you still stood up for me even though I'm in the wrong just because you want me around. None of this is your fault."

Vendras's hand clasped around the nape of his neck as he held him close. "All I want more than anything is to settle down and start my life with you. We're going to fix this. It's just taking a little longer than expected. Everything will fall into place."

"I know it will. I love you, Vendras."

"I love you too."

After a brief emotional kiss, they met up with Wulfgaar at the Moorside Inn, who was indulging in many mugs of ale and plates of hot beef, fried fish, and fresh bread. Not long after entering, and overly ecstatic Redguard woman with black hair and cinnamon brown skin scampered across the bar. "Oh my goodness, it's Vendras!"

The woman nearly knocked him off his feet as she dove into his arms. "How have you been?" Jonna was Falion's sister, and she also had a long history with Vendras, as the siblings were close.

"Good to see you, my dear." As always the welcomes were warm. Vendras never understood why he isolated himself with friends like these. He introduced her to Romlyn, and she congratulated them as one does. After speaking briefly, she brought them some meals and drinks out of courtesy. Like Falion, she denied any form of payment, though she could have used it as the only other patron besides their carriage driver was an orc bard...and though he was very passionate about his craft, he was also very tone deaf. Romlyn winced at every dissonant note played or sung.

"Er, what's with the orc?" Vendras uttered under his breath as Jonna slid cold sweating mugs of brew to each elf.

"Oh Lurbuk? Well..." she sounded unsure of herself. "I figure no one else will take him. The pay is decent and as you can see, business is dead. So...yeah."

"Bless your heart," Romlyn shook his head and took a miserable sip of his drink, flinching at that too. It went without saying she knew the reason why. She trusted the judgement of Vendras. The trip to Morthal was adventure enough for them, so they took plenty of time to rest before their next destination. They visited with Jonna, and at some point the kids came into the inn to beg for Vendras to play with them. He had to turn them down for the time being, as he was incredibly tired from the long trip, but he did promise to make it up to them. They tried to beg some more, but Jonna shooed them away. She respected that the trip was long and that the quagmire was unkind. The men needed their rest. When night finally fell, it was time for much required and well deserved sleep.

Wulfgaar the carriage driver snored away in his room across the hall. It was already well-known the man could sleep through an avalanche. But Romlyn Dreth squirmed and flopped like a beached salmon, hiding under the blanket, tossing it off in aggravation, burying his head under the pillow, but nothing dampened the infernal sounds of the orc bard practicing his “music” in the adjacent room.

Vendras laid still and silent on his back staring hopelessly at the ceiling.

"I can't take this, Ven! Not only is that vile shrieking in my ears, I can hear it in my soul!"

"Oh you're overreacting," scoffed Vendras, although he didn't exactly disagree. He figured maybe if he tried to block it out, he'd be less irate. He had a calm persona to uphold, after all, and he had to make up for his outburst at Candlehearth.

After a final out of tune twang from a lute string, Romlyn jumped out of bed. "I've had enough of this!" He swore in Dunmeris as he stormed out of the room. Vendras couldn't react quickly enough to stop him.

Romlyn knocked on the door normally. He didn't want it to be aggressive otherwise Lurbuk might not answer.

The door cracked and the orc peered out to see who beckoned him. "Yes, little elf? May I help you?"

Romlyn dangled a coinpurse in front of him with an undetermined amount of gold inside. "Listen, Underbite. I will literally pay you TO SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

Lurbuk grimaced at the elf like he'd gone madder than the Mad God Sheogorath himself. "You don't like my music? That's preposterous, for I am the most gifted bard in all of Skyrim."

Romlyn expressed so much incredulity at the orc that he looked like his brain shut down entirely. "Please...just take the gold. I'm sorry. It's late and I'm exhausted. I've had a long week, I'm sick, and I just want to get a good night's sleep in a nice warm bed. I'm begging you."

Lurbuk accepted his offering of coin. From the threshold of their room, Vendras poked his head out to make sure Romlyn didn't do anything rash.

Lurbuk's yellowish eyes shifted side to side at the coinpurse. "Fair enough, little elf. I'll keep it down a bit."

"Thank you!" Romlyn breathed an enthusiastic breath of relief and returned to Vendras in their room.

"That should do it," he said as he made himself comfortable and tossed the blanket over his feet. Vendras rejoined him. It was as silent as the grave, aside from some shuffling from Jonna sweeping the floor outside. Vendras and Romlyn were well on their route to dreamland when suddenly a triad of spiteful and off pitch vocal notes squealed from the next room.

“ _N'CHOW!_ ” Romlyn's eyes flung open with rage and he was about to give Lurbuk a piece of his mind, or rather his fists, but Vendras grabbed his shoulder and held him back. "I'll handle it this time."

Vendras disappeared around the corner. In no time, Romlyn heard a grunt and a loud thud. Moments later, Vendras returned nonchalantly and unscathed with the coinpurse Romlyn had given the orc in a vain attempt to bribe him to silence. He tossed it to Romlyn on the bed and it landed with a "plop chink!"

"There's your refund," he said coolly and climbed back under the covers with Romlyn, snuggling him as if nothing ever happened. Romlyn was afraid to ask what he had done, but to his delight they relaxed for the rest of the night in solitude.

The Dunmer and the Nord revitalized themselves as much as they could before they finally set out on their course. They gathered some provisions, bid their hospitable innkeeper Jonna farewell, and were on their not so merry way. On their way out the door they caught a glimpse of Lurbuk hiding with his tail between his legs in a darkened corner nursing a swollen black eye. Most importantly, he was quiet. Romlyn made a rude gesture at him before putting up his hood and closing the door behind him.


	15. Chapter 15

Romlyn carelessly tossed his knapsack to the back of the carriage. “I'm so tired of being on the road. Can you believe I even miss working at the meadery?”

“That is indeed hard to believe,” Vendras grinned. He pulled him by the hand to help him inside.

Romlyn situated himself. “I just don't like moving from place to place. It was hard enough moving from Morrowind.”

There was a sharp jolt of the cart as Wulfgaar shook the reins without warning and the horses began to trot.

“Do you miss Morrowind?” Vendras asked casually.

“Of course I do,” he replied. “It was my home. It's so different here. I guess it wasn't as glorious as it was before the volcano erupted but...I don't know. I guess I'm nostalgic for something I never got to experience.”

Vendras understood all too well what he meant. He wished he could be more in tune with his own race's culture, but life took him in a different direction. He marvelled at all the things he could have learned from his parents had their fates not been sealed so young. Perhaps he had been lazy. He had the resources to learn on his own. He couldn't help but feel ashamed of himself looking back on it.

Romlyn took a trip down memory lane. He looked happy as he recalled his youth. “When I was a boy, I had a pet guar. The damn thing was dumber than silt, but he was my idiot. We did everything together. I loved that loyal beast. Wasn't many of them left during my time. I wonder if they're still around or if the rest of them are suffocated by ash.”

Vendras had only ever seen pictures of guars in books, but he imagined a young Romlyn with his reptilian creature following him around like a dog. It was sweet.

“I wouldn't mind having one again. Raise him from a hatchling, be like a father to it.”

“I didn't peg you as an animal lover,” Vendras said.

“Yeah, I have a bit of a soft spot for them. What about you, Ven? You like animals?”

Vendras furrowed his brow in thought. Though he had a rocky past, and perhaps did not partake in the most ethical practices during his ignorant, desperate, and disturbed youth, he possessed a much higher respect for animals than he did then. “I've always been a loner but I don't think I'd mind having a companion animal.”

“Totally different kind of relationship than with a person,” he said informatively.

“Nothing like Rolff and his goat, I hope?” Vendras said in jest and Romlyn laughed heartily.

“Ah, Ven.”

Vendras patted the spot next to him. “Come. Sit close to me. You're too far away.”

Romlyn obliged and crossed over to his side. “Good, I'm cold anyway.”

“I'll keep you warm.” He put his arm around Romlyn and pulled him against his body as closely as possible.

“So where are we headed?” asked Romlyn.

“We're going to a cave,” he said.

“A cave? What's in there?”

“Unfortunately my dear, I cannot disclose that information at this time. You'll see soon.”

Romlyn remembered what Falion had said. Vendras had to fill the black soul gem, but it required the life force of a sophisticated being. Did Vendras have to commit murder?

“Ven,” he said uneasily. “You...you have to kill someone?”

Vendras rubbed his arm. “I'm afraid I do. It's the only way, my darling. But I want to be sure that innocent people are not involved. That's why our destination is vital to this quest. I want you to get better, Romlyn. I don't want you to fear the light and feel pain and sickness and hunger like you have to now...”

Romlyn was very upset. “I don't like any of this, Ven.”

“I know. I don't either. But this world is cruel...”

The unease was present on Romlyn's face. “I don't want anyone to have to die because of me.”

“Do you trust me, Romlyn?”

“I do but...”

Vendras gripped his hand. “This is imporant. Where we're going and what I'm going to do is imporant. Do not fret. It will become clear to you soon enough.”

It was a slow slog through the marsh, but Wulfgaar and his horse team navigated the carriage well. Vendras hadn't been in this part of the countryside in so long he couldn't recognize any of the scenery. He kept peeking around Wulgaar to see if he remembered any of the landmarks. His gut twisted into an anxious knot.

“I need directions, Master Vendras.”

Regretably, Vendras had no idea which way to go, but he went with his instinct. “Keep south,” he told him.

“We're lost aren't we?” Romlyn whispered in his ear.

Vendras cleared his throat, hesitant to admit it, but they were indeed very, very lost. “I'm...not certain of our whereabouts.”

Romlyn sighed so hard he sounded like he was deflating, but he was not annoyed. “Oh, Ven.” He curled up in Vendras's lap like a cat. Vendras combed his fingers through his soft white hair and massaged his scalp, the gentle touch comforted both of them. He easily could have fallen asleep, but it was critical to remain alert. Romlyn nodded off but awakened when his cheek felt moist from drooling on Vendras's pants. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Ven, I could use a piss.”

“Wulfgaar,” Vendras called to the front. “Let's stop for a rest.”

“Aye, sir.”

Vendras also needed to relieve himself, but he also believed he could gain his bearings if searched the surrounding area. Romlyn wondered off pretty far, so he assumed he had to do more than urinate. He found himself his own private place to do his business. A stray cloud darkened the afternoon sun above him. He inhaled deeply, relaxed, and released. His eyes shifted around to admire the scenery when he noticed something buried beneath an overgrowth of snowberry bushes. His entire face lit up with excitement and he fumbled to tuck himself back into his trousers. “Romlyn!”

“What?” his voice called from the near distance.

“What?” he repeated again once he was beside him as he finished fastening his pants after rushing over to see what the commotion was all about.

“Look.”

“Ven,” Romlyn frowned. “It's a tree stump for Nerevar's sake. Have you lost it?”

“It's not just a tree stump, it's _the_ tree stump!” Vendras was more enthusiastic than he'd ever seen him before.

“You're drunk,” said Romlyn emotionlessly.

Vendras grabbed him by the shoulders. “No! It means we're not lost anymore. We're headed exactly in the right direction. We have to keep going. Next there will be a hidden shrine, a gnarled tree, and at last, the cave. We're so close.” Vendras ran ahead to round up Wulfgaar and they continued onward. “Mad God take him,” Romlyn muttered under his breath and joined him. He hoped that this disastrous trip would be worth the trouble.


	16. Chapter 16

It turned out Vendras wasn't nearly as insane as Romlyn thought. Indeed they found a small shrine dedicated to Talos off the path in the woods a bit, though it was far more dilapidated than Vendras remembered, but the tree was a phenomenal sight to behold, with white bark and long tendril-like branches twisting into the sky and begging for the sun's embrace. Behind it, the blackened, rotten mouth of a cave opened up into the side of the mountain

Romlyn could smell the stench of death and blood on the breath spewing from the subterranean orifice, repulsed that he now found himself enticed by scents he once found foul. He was brimming with anxiety, his knees tingling with anticipation, his guts twisting into knots. What was down there? What was Vendras Volur about to do with him? A slew of unpleasant scenarios danced in his mind.

Vendras sensed his trepidation and took his hand. "Please...don't be frightened. Stay close to me. There will be no more secrets left to tell once we get down there. I promise you, Romlyn Dreth."

The sincerity in his tone and the welling tears reflecting like pools of blood in his crimson eyes made it difficult for Romlyn to distrust him. It was foolish to believe Vendras would ever harm him after all they'd been through together. But one couldn't be too careful. Even Wulfgaar parked his steeds far away from the entrance. Vendras and Romlyn shared a fulfilled but unwilling glance with one another before entering the cave at last.

The ambient temperature of the cave, though cool and dank, was much warmer than the frigid air outside. As they ventured deeper into the caverns, Romlyn caught a whiff of mold and fungus, and the aroma of death grew more pungent. His mouth watered and his stomach yearned for sustenance.

"I need you to be my eyes," said Vendras. "Casting a light spell right now will draw too much attention. Stay beside me and don't venture ahead."

"All right."

Minutes felt like years as they meandered quietly into the belly of the dark cave. They happened upon the occasional faint orbs of light hovering ominously every few feet, but it was not bright enough to light their way. So there was life down here after all, Romlyn thought. Something was down there all right, and Romlyn could feel their presence. Someone was watching them, though Vendras didn't seem to notice at the time.

The clatter of a disturbed rock in a distant corridor reverberated off the stone walls. They were not alone. Romlyn's nose twitched. The stink of an animal penetrated his nostrils, but he couldn't identify the creature. Not long after that, the shuffling and patter of feet could be heard drawing near. The creature was running in their direction. It was too dark for Vendras to see, but Romlyn pushed him aside and drew the dagger from his belt. The animal bit his calf and he kicked it, stunning it before plunging his weapon so forcefully into its belly he had to stand on it to pull it back out.  
  
"Rotten plague-carrying skeevers! _N'chow_!" He stomped on its still quivering corpse. "That hurt!" He examined the stinging injury on his leg as the blood seeped through the fabric of his pants, thankful that he was currently immune to the sicknesses skeevers transmit.

The Dunmer traveled deeper still into the bowels of the darkness. The illuminating magical orbs became fewer and farther between, but Vendras stated they were on the correct path. Nervousness got the better of Romlyn, the foreboding state of being watched grew stronger still. “This doesn't feel right. Something is really off, Vendras.”

“Stay near me.” Vendras could also feel a presence now, but his eyes strained in the dark and he could not see that which lurked in the shadows. He pulled on Romlyn's arm to encourage him to continue with him, but he was yanked out of his grip.

“Ven!” Romlyn fought and pulled at something that had him by the throat.

Vendras sent up a magelight to illuminate the passage and see what manner of being had Romlyn, but there was seemingly nothing there.

“Let him go!” he pleaded to the nothingness to no avail. Why weren't they listening to him? He called his bound sword to his hand and prepared for a fight.

Romlyn dug his nails into the invisible force around his neck, but it was much stronger. Vendras cried out and dove behind Romlyn taking a slice at the hidden being, making them materialize before him revealing a high elf woman with glowing vampiric eyes. She immediately released Romlyn to nurse her aggressively bleeding wound. Now that he was free, he summoned fire within his hands.

Three other vampires materialized in the room and they did not hesistate to avenge their injured comrade. “What are you doing?!” Vendras bellowed as his blade crossed with another's. “Stop this madness!”

Enraged and at his wit's end, Romlyn wasted no time shooting his flames at the creature. Burning with searing pain, he backed off, but turned on Romlyn.

“Do not test me! I'll fucking do it again!” the aggravated Dunmer hissed through gritted teeth. He charged up his flames as the four vampires walled him and Vendras in.

A booming low tenor voice echoed in the chamber of the cave. "Hold your attacks! It's Vendras! Lower your damned weapons you imbeciles! Don't you know my son when you see him?!"

Son? Romlyn's mind exploded with a million questions.

The vampires immediately did as commanded and they backed off. Romlyn and Vendras eased their stance.

Son indeed. There was no mistaking Vendras for anyone else. A Dunmer of above average height emerged from an entrance to another chamber in the cave, his straight auburn hair decorated with a braid flowed like satin beneath the glow of Vendras's hovering magelight. Upon closer inspection, he nearly had the same face, but aged and adorned with a neatly trimmed short goatee.

“My boy!” the cursed Dunmer hugged Vendras tighter than anyone ever could, thrilled to see him. “Back to your quarters!” he growled at the other vampires over Vendras's shoulder. “You'll be punished adequately for your incoherence soon enough!”

He turned his attention back to Vendras. “My son...it has been so many years...”

“I know father. I'm so sorry.” Vendras said, a mirthless tone in his voice.

“Come with me,” the elder elf said warmly. “Bring your companion and join me in my chambers.” He walked with a cane, though it appeared more as a weapon than an ambulatory aid.

The lighting and the atmosphere was much homier in that section of the cave. The old elf poured tea for Vendras and blood for Romlyn, as he could smell the vampirism on him. Now that he could get a better look at him, he couldn't believe his uncanny similarity between him and Vendras. His knees grew weak at the sight of him just like they had for Vendras in Riften the first time they spoke. The taboo thought stirred discomfiture in Romlyn but he couldn't help the attraction. He was unable to even look at the man without his cheeks and ears getting warm.

“So have you come to your senses at last, my boy?” the elder elf said as he made himself comfortable in a velvet upholstered armchair.

“Please, not now father,” Vendras said morosely. “I just wanted to see you.”

“You've spent years running away from your problems and you show up all of a sudden? I do believe your purpose is much more than just a friendly visit. I know you, Vendras.” The old vampiric mer sipped blood from his own teacup, delicately dabbing the run off on his lips with a napkin.

“Do forgive my rude son.” It was obvious he was being facetious about Vendras as he turned his fiery eyed gaze to Romlyn. “I am Sylvan Volur. I'm certain he hasn't said much about me. And who might you be, little vampire elf?”

The fact he spoke to him directly made him nervous. “My name is...Romlyn Dreth...s-sir.” He had trouble comprehending his charming good looks and envisioned Vendras at a ripe old age in his mind.

“So...” Sylvan sounded suspicious, but he spoke with a cheeky smirk, “...you mean to tell me you're _not_ Drovas?”

Romlyn's head cocked to the side with perplexity, but he couldn't find any words to say. He knew he had been rescued by vampires because Vendras told him, but he couldn't remember anything after he passed out from his injuries until Vendras turned up to find him there against the tree.

Vendras proceeded to explain the story to his father, and he then understood. It was Sylvan who passed his disease to Romlyn, recognizing his significance to his son as he read the letter he had dropped in the snow.

“ _You_ saved me that night?” Romlyn's heart beat fast within his chest cavity. He cupped his hand over his neck where the vampire had bitten him.

“Indeed, lad. I know Vendras. If anyone is involved with my son, they must be significant to him. He's a lone wolf, but his heart is filled with kindness. He doesn't get close to just anyone.”

“Speaking of closeness,” Vendras chimed in coyly, fidgeting in his seat. “It's a bit more than that. In fact...Romlyn and I were just recently engaged.” He flashed the pendant hidden beneath his robes.

“Engaged? My little boy is engaged to be wed? I never thought I'd live to see the day...never thought I'd live again at all. Well, you know what I mean.” But Sylvan released a somewhat disappointed, though not mean-spirited sigh. “But I had hoped you might give me a grandson some day to carry on the family name.”

Vendras rolled his eyes. “You know my particular lifestyle doesn't allow any room for raising a child.”

Sylvan shook his head and laughed. “I'm teasing you, my boy. Grandchildren or no, what matters is that my son and his soon-to-be husband are happy. Our bloodline ends with you. Damn. It sounds so sinister putting it that way.”

“Father please.” Vendras's body heated up with embarrassment.

“You need to learn to loosen up a bit, Vendras,” Sylvan said as he took another sip from his cup. “You're much too serious. Master Dreth, please make yourself at home. I need to have some words with Vendras if you don't mind? My servant Priscilla will see you out and prepare you a place to stay.”

A small elderly Bosmer woman with yellow hair in braids poked her head around the corner from a kitchen area as she heard her name called. She was not a vampire herself, but she took care of Sylvan's clan living in the cave. “Did you need me, Master Volur?”

“Ah yes, Priscilla. Give my future son-in-law a tour of the place won't you? And get a room ready for him and Vendras.”

“Yes sir!” she said, sounding more than happy to serve her benevolent leader, Sylvan.

“And close the door on your way out, my dear,” the old elf requested politely.

Romlyn didn't want to leave, but the look on Vendras's face reassured him that everything would be fine. He hoped that Vendras would explain everything later. He was already so tired of living in the dark.

Sylvan shifted his weight in his seat and asked Vendras to sit closer to him. He sighed, and the father and son sat in an awkward silence for a few moments.

“I miss you, you know,” Sylvan finally said.

“I know, pa,” he said.

“Pa?” Sylvan smiled. “You haven't called me that since you were but eight years old. You got so proper after you grew up. Well, given the circumstances, I guess it makes sense. Who knew we'd end up like this now?”

“Yeah.”

Sylvan didn't appreciate the one liners. “Vendras, don't be afraid to talk to me. I know what happened back then still festers within you, and I know you're not proud of the things you've done in your past...but I'm still proud of your achievements. You learned to be a problem solver...to never give up no matter what. I know I've placed a huge burden on you by asking you to take my life.”

Vendras turned away. He didn't want his father to see him cry, but Sylvan knew.

“You're allowed to express emotions, my boy. They're healthy. They're natural. But what I am...it's simply not natural. I just want to be with your mother.”

He tried as hard as he could, but he could not stave off the streams of tears. Sylvan placed his hand over his son's.

Vendras removed the black soul gem from his pocket and without saying anything showed it to his father. He knew immediately what it was for.

“Oh...Vendras.” The old elf sounded like the weight of the world had been lifted from him. “I suppose that means you've made your decision then.”

Vendras nodded, but he couldn't look at Sylvan.

“You've been through a lot, my boy, but I can guarantee you, you are granting me much more mercy by doing this. And it holds a greater purpose. You can have your Romlyn back.” Sylvan's tenderness made Vendras break down even more. He hugged his son. “ _Os daelha ohn_ ,” he said.

“I love you too, father.”

“I know you do or we wouldn't be here like this right now.”

“Thank you so much.”

“For what?”

“For saving him...I don't know what I'd do...he's just...” Vendras didn't know what else to say.

“I know he's special to you,” said Sylvan, hugging his son tighter still. “If I may be honest...well, I'm sure you were wondering why I was that far east in the first place but...I was looking for you, and peeking in. Hidden. Creepy I know, but I didn't want to get in your space. I just wanted to see my son. I missed you so much. I was actually on my way back here when the bandits attacked. In his delirious state he kept calling out your name. I...had a feeling that he was your lover after that.” He smiled at Vendras, but he didn't respond. “Come on. I'd very much love to catch up and hear your story and I want to get to know the love of your life. Let's forget the serious stuff for tonight and spend some much needed time together. We'll make great memories before I have to go. How does that sound?”

Though he still despaired, Vendras took comfort in his words. He harbored such deep regret for not spending time with his father in the first place. Running away had only delayed the inevitable.


	17. Chapter 17

Vendras and Sylvan met back up with Romlyn. Sylvan sent Vendras's attackers to invite Wulfgaar inside and as punishment they were to tend to the horses throughout the duration of his son's stay. Vendras and Romlyn settled in for the time being in the room Priscilla prepared for them. They needed to speak anyway. It was time for some answers.

"Vendras?"

Though it was only an utterance of his name, he could tell Romlyn was ready for an explanation. The frantic elf inhaled deeply to try to compose himself. "I already know, my love, and I'm going to tell you. Please sit with me. I...I need you..."

Romlyn's heart broke for him. He'd never seen the man so dishelved and beaten down before. Vendras was always the support, the guiding light...and to be needed by him rather than just wanted, was certainly something. Romlyn leaned against his body and wove his fingers into Vendras's. "I'm here, _yi daelha_."

"I told you my parents were murdered before my very eyes as a boy, well this is true. I have practiced necromancy since adolescence, I spent my youth searching desperately for my deceased mother and father...I eventually found my father's corpse partially preserved by the elements in a pit of discarded bodies on Imperial property. They didn't even have the decency to bury him respectfully..."

His voice began to waver. "Falion helped me a great deal during this time. We stole the body and took it back to my home. But I didn't have any idea how I could possibly bring him back...he'd have been a zombie. He'd have crumbled into ash in moments. I had another option. I communed with Lord Molag Bal and he heard my call...I made a pact with him, I willfully gave my father to him...do you know how pure-blooded vampires are made, Romlyn?"'

He didn't know exactly, but he was certain it was very unsettling as far as Daedric Lord Molag Bal was concerned. Vendras's hand tensed around his.

"I don't want to go into detail," Vendras said anxiously. He sounded disturbed, his eyes looked desolate and perturbed at the very thought. "But the way he...he _desecrated_ him...defiled his very soul...it was a mistake. I was so blinded by my selfishness to have him back that I didn't stop to think of the repercussions."

"You're not selfish," Romlyn said softly and rested his head against Vendras's shoulder. “You just didn't want to be alone.”

Glistening trails of tears dripped over the scars on his cheek. “My father hates undeath. He does not see it as a gift, but as a curse...he has begged me for mercy and I've been running away for many long years.”

“So he wants you to kill him? Why must you carry the burden like this? Why can't he kill himself?”

“I wish it could be that simple, Romlyn. If my father dies by his own hand to attempt to break the curse, then the contract with Molag Bal has been violated, and my father will suffer dire consequences for it.”

Romlyn fidgeted uncomfortably. “But what of Molag Bal? Won't he invoke his wrath upon you if you take back your 'gift' to him?”

Vendras shook his head. “I'm sure he got all he wanted out of me. It became very clear to me, Romlyn, when I found you on the verge of death along the road I needed to finally make a choice. If you want to get better...you have to let me do this. I love my father very much. He never wanted this, I forced it upon him...it wasn't fair. It wasn't right. I was only thinking of myself. It's why I've been trying so hard with Friga. I wanted to leave her where she left off before she was murdered but it seems nothing comes without a price. I want to bring people back without consequences...maybe I'm not as good as I think I am.”

“Ven,” Romlyn turned Vendras's head to look at him. “You're asking for the impossible. It doesn't mean you're not great at what you do. Don't downplay yourself and your abilities because you can't do something no one else in history could or will ever do.”

“I'm sorry, I'm getting off topic,” said Vendras. “Forgive me for wallowing in self pity. I'm frightened, Romlyn...I don't know what happens next and I never want anyone to feel the pain that I have been through.” He enjoyed the warmth of Romlyn's embrace in silence for a moment.

“I want a cure for you and I want my father to be happy...I know he'll be happy when he is with my mother again, wherever she may be...”

Romlyn held onto Vendras tightly. “Do you think it would have been different—you know—if you had found her too?”

Vendras exhaled a gust of air through his nose. “Possibly. But she is gone.”

“What was her name?”

“Llevana,” replied Vendras.

“Beautiful. I bet she was a beautiful woman too.”

Vendras recalled his mother to the best of his ability, her glossy, wavy ebony hair, deep red eyes and pale bluish gray flesh. He remembered her soft skin and her floral scent that he breathed in when he hugged her. But it was all he could remember of her and he hated that the memory of her faded away ever more with each year gone, nothing more than a ghost.

Romlyn shifted beneath the uncomfortable weight of his large fiancé. “What about a cure for his vampirsim?”

“He doesn't want it,” Vendras said solemnly. “My father believes the dead should remain dead, no matter how tragic their death.”

They fell quiet again. Romlyn did his best to console Vendras during his time of need. There were no words to be said to make the experience any easier and the silence upset Vendras more as he couldn't escape his own mind.

“Romlyn...”

“What is it, love?”

Vendras raised his chin delicately with his lengthy fingers and placed his lips upon his. It was a long and strained kiss as Vendras struggled to fight back more tears. “I love you so much,” he said softly in a clenched and constrained tone trying not to lose his composure. “I've never felt like this for anyone. I want you in my life but...I have a troubled mind and I don't ever want that to hold you back.”

“I'm not going to listen to you if you start that nonsense,” Romlyn stated firmly. “I'm not going anywhere. I love you, Ven. You are a kind and loving man. You need to start seeing yourself for who you are.”

Vendras couldn't handle hearing the truth. He felt unworthy. “I don't deserve you. I'm so afraid I might hurt you...”

“Stop it. Stop it now,” demanded Romlyn. “You're not going to hurt me. I wouldn't allow myself to go through all of this if I didn't think it was all worth it. We are strong, and even stronger together. We're going to make it through this.”

Vendras asked to be held for awhile as he collected his scattered thoughts, Romlyn rocked gently with him in his arms, his lips pressed against his coppery auburn hair. He nuzzled him lightly. “Ven, I want you just as badly as the first time I saw you. Life has ups and downs. I don't know why you of all people would let this discourage you. I love you more and more every day. You're everything I ever wanted. There was a reason I proposed to you, after all. I never would have made a foolish decision like that if you weren't something special. Come on. I want to spend some time with you and your father. Please? Let's not do this. I told you I'm not going anywhere and I mean that.”

“I'm so sorry, Romlyn. It's just so hard.” Vendras sobbed into his chest.

Romlyn caressed him lovingly. “Of course it's hard. And you're never going to be alone again. I'll be here.”

Priscilla had been standing in the doorway for some time, but she didn't feel it appropriate to interrupt them. Romlyn saw her out of the corner of his eye and acknowledged her presence with a silent sideways glance.

“Pardon the intrusion, gentleman. Master Sylvan is waiting to meet with you both in the main chamber.” She seemed sympathetic toward Vendras's current state of being.

“We'll be there shortly,” Romlyn answered. The little wood elf gave a brief nod and left the men alone.

Vendras cleared his throat. “Go on ahead, my love. I'll need a moment here.”

“I understand.” Romlyn placed a firm and loving kiss upon his brow before leaving him to allow him to gather himself.

His eyes felt swollen and sticky, and his nasal passages were irritated from crying. Priscilla returned to the room again with a few remedies to calm him and relieve the physical symptoms of his sadness. The woman was very caring and broody like a mother hen. Vendras had been acquainted with her for many years.

“You always know,” Vendras said with a rough voice.

“Of course I do, dear. It's my job to know. I've been taking care of others my whole life.” A piece of her graying yellow hair fell from behind a pale pointed ear as she dabbed his face and eyes with a cool wet cloth. “Sylvan has been waiting a long time for this.”

“I shouldn't have kept him,” he responded solemnly.

She handed him a teacup containing a warm mead-like beverage to soothe his throat and calm his nerves. “Dear, no one blames you for it. It's a very unique situation.”

“I'm glad you were here to take care of him while I was away. I'm sure that made it easier for him.”

“It has,” Priscilla sighed. “But he despises this lifestyle. The others don't mind it, but they all love and respect your father. Loyal to the end.”

“What will you do after I...fulfill my task?”

She shrugged. “I imagine I'll continue to take care of the rest of the lot until I enter my golden years.” The elderly elven woman winked.

Vendras sipped the delicious substance from his teacup, and Priscilla continued.

“You are strong Vendras, and you are kind. Free your father. Rejoice in his freedom, don't despair, love.”

The young Dunmer tried his best to fix himself up before facing Sylvan again. “Do I look okay?”

“Handsome as ever, just like dear old dad.” She kissed him on his scars and encouraged him to follow. Priscilla was very much like a mother to him. She understood the gravity of the situation for both of them, but always had Sylvan's back on his decision to die and spent many years trying to make his unlife worth the effort as he waited for his son to end the suffering he bestowed upon him against his will.

“I hope you know that Sylvan isn't angry with you. He always understood the weight you would bear. If he didn't think you were strong enough, he would never have asked.”

Vendras had no more to say on the matter. It was time to make his father's final hours the best he could. Priscilla led him down the stone corridor illuminated by candles placed in recesses in the walls and at the end it opened up into a room that looked worthy of a palace. Sylvan, Romlyn, and Wulfgaar sat around the fire enjoying their respective beverages.

“There's my boy at last,” Sylvan greeted cheerfully. Peculiar for a man on his death bed.

Vendras took his place beside his fiancé. Sylvan ignited a taper stick from the fire to light the hookah on the table before him and sunk into his nest of lush velvet pillows to relax. He inhaled the intoxicating fumes through a long tube, holding the smoke in his lungs for a moment before releasing a swirling cloud of fragrant purplish vapor into the air around his head. The aroma smelled of sugary flowers. Skooma.

Sylvan was amused by Vendra's surprised expression. “Fear not, my boy. It doesn't affect the undead the same way it affects the living.”

“I suppose it doesn't really matter if you partake anyway,” said Vendras.

“I always did smoke...never around you though,” Sylvan informed, stroking his clean cut goatee with an ashy gray hand. “Also different effects when smoked as opposed to drank.”

Romlyn was entranced by the shroud of mysticism of the skooma smoke spiralling around the old mer. He couldn't get over how much of Vendras he saw in him. As he ogled, he was given quite the fright when Sylvan addressed him suddenly.

“Master Dreth, please tell me about yourself.”

A lump formed in his throat and he struggled nervously to clear it. “I...I work in a meadery. Well, worked. Um...”

Vendras raised a suspicious eyebrow at Romlyn's abnormal behavior, but he didn't address it.

“Ah, a working man,” Sylvan said with an air of pride. “Excellent. It comes as no surprise to me that my boy would be selective. He was very particular, even as a child. The man knows what he wants.”

Neither of them had anything to say.

“Well come on then, lets fill this old man in with the small talk. Tell me your story. How you met, how you came to be, all that mushy stuff. I live in this cave and I don't get out much to gossip.”

Vendras and Romlyn took turns telling their slices of the tale, while all of the information was completely new to Sylvan, the couple learned knew things about each other as well. It was a heartwarming fairy tale come to life. It reminded Sylvan of how he met his wife Llevana. “Vani” he called her for short, much like Romlyn referred to Vendras as “Ven.” He knew it was true love and he couldn't be happier for his son to have found the love of his life just like he once had. They vollied between stories and as all conversations do ended up so far from where they began. Vendras thoroughly enjoyed learning new things about the mother he missed so dearly, but he could tell by the way his father spoke of his darling Vani that he was not meant to be where he was. Wherever his mother's spirit now roamed, he had robbed his father of an eternity with her. It had never been his place to take that away from him and he understood immensely why his father craved the sweet embrace of death. His life had no meaning without his beloved wife, and he had no desire to seek another. For Sylvan, there existed no replacement for Llevana. Vendras imagined what life would be like if he had never met Romlyn and it was pitiful and empty, even though he'd only known him a short time, his entire outlook changed. His attitude, his goals and aspirations for the future, and his own opinion of himself, all altered in healthy and positive ways. Reuniting his parents in death was indeed true mercy. Though it didn't stop Vendras from making certain if it was still what his father wanted.

“I'm set in my ways, Vendras. I find it endearing that you care so deeply. I wished I could have been around to provide you the life you deserved to be raised on, but you have done so much better raising yourself alone than I ever could have done. You are altruistic and you have done a fine job facing your demons as a man. I couldn't be more proud of you. My part in your life completed long, long ago on that fateful day Vani and I had our lives taken by those foul men.”

Once again, Sylvan inhaled deeply from his skooma pipe. “Master Dreth, no one could be a better husband to you than my son. He truly loves you if he came all this way to right his wrongs just to protect you. That's all I need to know about it. You certainly have my blessing. I wish I could join you both on your day of matrimony, but I already know it will be spectacular, and this makes this even easier for me. Vendras, lad, may I have a private moment with you?”

“Of course, father.”

Romlyn and Wulfgaar made themselves scarce while the father and son spoke.

Sylvan spoke forlornly. “I know you didn't approve of my 'visits.' I'd done the best I could to remain in the shadows, but I always had to know how you were doing. I wish you would have written me and told me all about the great things happening in your life.”

“I understand. It was cruel of me to do this to you and make you suffer alone.”

“Aye, but I'm also to blame. I pestered you too much with death. I know you do what you do because you loathe death, possibly even fear it. But I need you to know that death is nothing to be afraid of. I don't want that to stop you from practicing your arts, but know that sometimes living isn't better. You at least have everything to live for. I no longer do. I have been blessed by seeing my son become the wonderful man he is, and that's enough for me, so thank you for giving me the opportunity.”

Vendras's eyes welled. “Please don't be like this...it already hurts so much.”

“Of course it does. But doesn't it hurt more to know that I've fulfilled my time on Nirn, yet I'm still here? You're a good man, Vendras. Don't mourn me as a loss, dear boy. You don't need me. You clearly love Romlyn and you both deserve to live a normal life together, and I am more than happy to give that to you. Let me give you this one last thing, and let me leave this world with the dignity I have left.”

Vendras could not handle Sylvan's words, but he tried to stay strong.

“It's time, lad. You showed me what I wanted to see. I know you came here for more than that. You wanted to show me your happiness and your success. I'm not blind.” Sylvan smiled, and it somewhat eased Vendras's nerves.

“I love you Vendras. I'm glad that you have grown stronger than your darkness.”

“I love you too, father.” Vendras spoke softly and embraced Sylvan.

“Get the soul gem,” Sylvan whispered in his ear. Blue and violet mist began to twirl around him. He had cast the soul trap spell on himself. “Don't waste time, boy. I beg you.”

He didn't give him enough time to choose. He'd prepared his mind for so long, but now that it was time to actually perform the deed, Vendras found himself hesitant and afraid. But he called his blade to his hand without but a thought, and Sylvan turned away so his son didn't have to look him in the eye. He bared his neck and Vendras sliced it swiftly before he even realized what he had done. The black soul gem emanated whitish purple light. It was over. Vendras dropped to his knees in shock and held his father who was bleeding out. When reality at last set in, he began to sob. Priscilla had been waiting nearby, completely unbothered by the sight of her deceased master and pleased he finally got the freedom he desired.

“Bless your heart, Vendras,” the little Bosmer embraced him and caressed his hair. “Do not feel sad for him, dear. Feel happiness. He had planned for this day for ages. I'll let you be alone now.” The woman moved away to take care of the preparations Sylvan requested in the event of his death.

A dark aura fell over Romlyn. He sensed something amiss and returned swiftly to his fiancé where he discovered him drenched in his own father's blood as he cried and held his body close to his. “Oh...Ven...”

He fell to his knees beside him and hugged him tightly. There was nothing to say.

“I had to,” he wept heavily. “For both of you.”


	18. Chapter 18

Romlyn's fresh mug of blood remained untouched. Distraught and mournful, he paced around the chamber aimlessly, struggling to contain his emotions. Vendras requested to be alone for awhile, so Romlyn stayed with Wulfgaar until affairs were settled and until Vendras felt comfortable enough to face his soon-to-be husband again.

Wulfgaar, who had remained quiet for a majority of the time there in the vampire lair, and still considerably confused about the happenings of the night, did his best to set Romlyn's mind at ease, but to no avail. He had grown fond of the companionship of him and Vendras during their quest. They were the first people beside the Shatter-Shields who treated him with any respect. He was well aware he didn't have the sharpest wit about him, but he never thought it was a good enough reason to treat him poorly. Romlyn and Vendras treated him as a friend, and he deeply valued their kindness towards him. He had already silently sworn an oath of allegiance to the Dunmer couple and since he was in it this far already, he would remain with them for the long haul, or at least for as long as they would employ him.

Romlyn explained to Wulfgaar to the best of his ability the long and short of what their journey entailed so he wouldn't be in the dark. He didn't like seeing the man struggle to put the pieces together. Talking helped distract him from worrying about Vendras who was most likely thinking dark thoughts as he festered alone in self loathing and sorrow. Either that, or Romlyn was merely overreacting and fearing the worst. Vendras only opened up to him recently and he didn't quite know how he could handle the situation. He just wanted it all to be over. He longed for Vendras's luxurious bed back in Windhelm, the warmth of the hearth, and hopefully soon he would love the smells and tastes of real food and liquor again. He still didn't know what they were going to do about Maven Black-Briar, but who knew what would happen now that a dangerous fire was ignited within Vendras's heart. Though he once believed that issue had been settled, his instinct told him it was far from over. They had far too many strokes of good luck for everything to just end quickly and simply.

“Master Dreth...do you think he'll be okay?”

“Wulfgaar, you don't have to be so formal. I'm nobody special. Call me Romlyn.”

“Sorry,” he said.

Romlyn tried to answer his question. “I don't know. He's strong but...”

“But what?”

“Nevermind.”

Vendras sat beside his father's corpse. Unlike the first time he found his body in that nameless pit, he appeared elegant and tranquil. Priscilla already prepared a funeral pyre for him so he could at last have a proper Dunmeri send off. She adorned him with a variety of different flowers, and she was a mastermind of cleaning blood. The slit in his throat was nearly invisible, and she had dressed him in his finest clothes. It was very clear she cared deeply for her friend and had arranged for this day for a long time.

“You did a good thing for him, Vendras,” the old Bosmer said softly and sweetly, and handed him a small corked bottle with a chain. “This is for you, dear. To carry close to your heart. He wanted to remain close to you too.”

Upon further examination of the bottle, Vendras could see the gray silt substance tumbling within. It was vampire dust. His father must have already begun to deteriorate in the way of the vampire.

“We have to be quick, my dear or we won't be able to fulfill his burial rite proper. He may want to return to the dust as a Dunmer should, but he wants to do it before he crumbles away into vampire remains.”

“I understand,” Vendras said distantly.

“Would you like Romlyn to be with you?”

As much as he longed for his lover's comfort, he could not bear to force him to witness this ceremony. Perhaps if it had been under different circumstances, but he felt it his duty to do this alone. He shook his head, clutching the bottle of Sylvan's remains against his breast.

Priscilla requested Vendras's final blessing, and when he responded, she wasted no more time and touched her torch against the intricately woven, botanical oil-drenched sticks beneath Sylvan Volur, who went up in flames with such nobility and grace. The image was bittersweet for Vendras. Priscilla recited a Bosmeri prayer to herself as Sylvan's body burned. Her customs differed dramatically from that of the Dunmer, but it was her duty to honor her fallen comrade with his own customs. Though their cultures clashed, they were very close throughout the years. Vendras suspected that she may have been in love with him, but his father remained loyal to his Llevana, even in undeath. It was a sad tale for Priscilla, but she would carry on as always.

When the fire died down to embers, Vendras bid his father one final farewell. Now that it was over, he found peace within himself as well, though the sorrow still overwhelmed him. Priscilla handed him a sealed letter at this time. “He asked me to give this to you in the event of his death.” She touched his shoulder before she left him to his privacy again. Vendras broke the wax seal carefully and indulged in the text his father intended for him.

Romlyn could smell the scent of perfumed oils and burnt flesh, which made him anxious. He was getting ready to go searching when Vendras walked in at the same time. He looked a bit fresher and somewhat at ease. He did not speak a word and wrapped his arms around Romlyn Dreth, holding his head firmly against his chest burying his fingers into his mop of white hair.

“Vendras,” he was muffled through the clothing. “What happened?”

He kissed him tenderly and spoke in a hushed voice. “He got the send off he longed for, Romlyn.”

“I'm so sorry for all of this, Ven.”

“You have nothing to feel sorry for. This was my battle.” After holding him for a moment as he mulled over his thoughts in silence, he spoke again. “I'm so in love with you Romlyn Dreth.”

“Ven...”

He constricted him with his embrace. “You helped me do what I should have done years ago. Thank you so much and bless you for staying by my side and trusting me when you had no incentive.”

Romlyn could hear the emotion in his voice again. He was on the verge of tears, but they were no longer tears of sorrow, but of a profound sense of love.

“He liked you, Romlyn. I don't think it would have changed anything between us, but his approval means the world to me.”

Romlyn was melancholy. “I'm glad I got to meet him. I wish it could have been different.”

“Me too.” Vendras kissed Romlyn. “I have a few responsibilities I must take care of here, my love, but first thing tomorrow we will make our return to Morthal and Falion will set you right again.” He then turned his attention to Wulfgaar. “I'm so sorry for dragging you through all of this. It must have been a complete nightmare for you.”

Wulfgaar replied with pride. “It has been a great honor to serve you both, Master Volur. I'm happy to have been given a purpose.”

Vendras nodded. “Take care of Romlyn for me. I have some things to do.”

He left the two of them again, and sought out the rest of the coven, who had already been informed of their master's demise. By the dying request of Sylvan Volur in his letter to Vendras, he had now been officially appointed their patriarch, and he had one last thing to ask before he set them free to establish their own leadership. His loyal vampire crew had a job to to. They could see he was on a mission. “My lord, how may we assist you?”

“I'm going to need your help...”


	19. Chapter 19

A horrendous winter storm ensued when the party left for Morthal. The road was covered with snow, and visibility through the precipitation was non-existant. Vendras and Romlyn huddled for warmth as their devoted carriage driver Wulfgaar, bound in thick hides and furs, did his best to navigate them all to safety.

“All this and now we're gonna die out here,” worried Romlyn, who was shivering from both cold and nerves.

“We're not going to die,” Vendras assured and shrouded both of them beneath another wool blanket. Though, as the horses trudged begrudgingly through the ever deepening snowfall, he wasn't so sure himself. He reached beneath the layers of clothing and blankets to find Romlyn's hand, and locked their fingers together. He was chilled to the bone. “We made it this far. I won't let anything happen to us.”

Wulfgaar yelled to them through the whistling wind after miraculously discovering a recess in the side of a mountain. “We need to stop! My horses can't take anymore of this!”

Vendras did not protest. They needed to wait out the blizzard. They had fresh supplies thanks to Priscilla, and they had access to fire. There was no point to risk freezing to death.

There was just enough room within the recess for the three men and pair of equine beasts, who seemed thankful for the consideration of their lives. They built a fire and did their best to wait out the storm. Vendras leaned up against the wall of the cavern with Romlyn seated between his legs so he could sap the warmth from the fire and from him. The cold radiated from his body and Vendras did what he could to keep the temperature raised on the shivering elf, even wrapping him up inside his robes and coat as he held him. The fire helped immensely, but it didn't stop him from complaining. “I just wanna go home...even if it's back to that cellar in Riften. I'm so tired...”

“Soon, darling. Soon.” Vendras tucked Romlyn's windblown hair behind his ears. “Let's think warm thoughts. It's midday in early Sun's Height and we're sunbathing on the shore of Lake Honrich. We strip ourselves of clothing and have a swim in the lake for hours. When we finally grow weary, we walk the breezy summer path back, our skin is cool and fresh, but the air is warm and filled with the scent of grass and wildflowers, the final heat from the remaining sun on the road slowly dissipating. And once we gallop over the wooden walkways to the Bee and Barb, Keerava and Talen-Jei serve us ale and a delicious dinner of tender pheasant breast and roasted potatoes saturated in butter, and then we open our window in the evening to let out the stuffiness, and we crawl into our bed and listen to the music of the frogs and the insects...”

“That's so nice, Ven. I can't wait...” Romlyn said drowsily. He was asleep in no time. Vendras kissed the top of his head and pulled him closer. His tailbone all the way through his buttocks down to his knees went numb in the position he was seated, but he didn't want to disturb Romlyn. He had already been through so much, he didn't mind forfeiting his own comfort for him. Vendras felt particularly self-centered and he hoped freeing Romlyn of his vampirism would set things right again. He deserved so much better.

The wind whipped outside and snowflakes from the blizzard fluttered carelessly into their cave, taunting them, the cold airflow robbed them of the heat from the fire. Vendras's feet were without feeling, but he drew his knees up and continued to shelter Romlyn, praying with every ounce of his being that this storm would soon pass. Even Wulfgaar, who was naturally hardy against the chill of winter, nestled between his trusty steeds for warmth. The lot of them were devoid of cold resistant potions. Maybe this truly was the end...

Vendras's eyes opened. He had fallen into a restless sleep and awakened exhausted. It must have been morning, the new sky brightening the crevice in the mountain to a dull blue hue. On the horizon the sun began to peek out over the land. The blizzard had at last subsided. He realized he couldn't move his hands. He had his fingers interlocked all night to keep Romlyn in place, and he was so stiffened up he felt paralyzed. He forced his hands apart and attempted to wiggle the life back into them. It burned and pricked like thousands of hot knives. He nudged Romlyn to awaken him so that he may finally stand and regain the feeling in his body parts, every vertebra in neck and spine creaked and his knees popped. He couldn't turn his head without excruciating pain. Hobbling like an old man, he checked on the status of the snow outside. It was knee deep. The sky now brighter as the sun rose, was spitefully clear, as if there had never been a world ending snow squall the night before. Sighing, he weakly made his way to relight the fire, start some food and plan the rest of their trip. They couldn't be far from Morthal now.

Wulfgaar was convinced his horse team could make it, but Vendras feared pushing the beasts too hard, though he trusted the Nord's judgment. If the man knew anything, he knew what his steeds could handle. It didn't help that he insisted he was going to get the elves back to Morthal no matter what. Romlyn remained silent, burnt completely out from the entire journey. Morale declined rapidly.

Vendras helped Wulfgaar clear the snow from the carriage and ready the team. He lifted Romlyn inside so he didn't have to go slog through the deep, frigid snow, since he got cold so easily. Vendras didn't even care if he lost his own legs to frostbite at this point. The haunting despair on his fiancé's face broke his heart and he yearned for him to laugh and smile again. It had been far too long. “Don't give up on me yet,” Vendras whispered to him. “Wulfgaar will get us there. I have faith in him.”

Slowly and strenuously, the horses dragged the carriage through the thick blanket of snow and the rocky terrain. They were reluctant and afraid, and their master Wulfgaar spoke to them kindly, begging for them to obey, and they did. The Nord had a certain way with them, and they responded well to his commands. The party made many rest stops so Wulfgaar could feed and water the horses to replenish their strength, though they understood it as a treat. Though it was a painstakingly sluggish process, it yielded positive results. Onward they traveled.

It took twice as long as it should have to get there, but in the middle of the night they could see the halos of lamp posts flickering through the fog of the boggy settlement of Morthal. Vendras never thought the Hjaalmarch wetlands would ever in his life set his heart aflutter. He nudged Romlyn, whose illness was getting the better of him now. He had been catnapping on and off for the entire trip. “Wake up.”

Romlyn stretched lazily and rubbed his eyes, but it did not refresh him, the sleepiness rendered him slightly incoherent.

“We're in Morthal, Romlyn.”

The words seemed to have no meaning to him. Vendras knew he wasn't feeling well. While Wulfgaar situated the animals and tended to their belongings, Vendras carried the weakened elf in his arms over the pier all the way to the end where Falion resided. He knocked on the door, and when there was no answer, pounded his fist again more desperately, from within, he could hear a rough Redguard voice complaining about how late it was from beyond the door, which flung open aggressively. Falion was about to curse at his uninvited visitor until he realized who was pestering him at such an hour.

“Good gods! Vendras! You look a mess! Get in here now!”

Agni wandered up beside him, rubbing her eyes, befuddled by the commotion.

“Darling, go back to sleep in my bed. Vendras and Romlyn need to use yours tonight.”

“Okay papa.” The girl dragged her doll by its leg and crawled into her adoptive father's bed without protest, falling back to her dreams in no time.

Vendras gently placed Romlyn in Agni's bed and covered him, his flesh was cold and clammy to the touch. The frigid weather certainly did him a disservice.

“What have you done to him this time?” Falion retorted in his usual sardonic way as he rummaged on his shelves and through his drawers for medicines.

Vendras, who was sitting on the edge of the bed stroking the once again comatose Romlyn's hair, sighed. “I think his mind is troubling him more than the disease.”

Sensing his friend's geunine despair, Falion eased up on his usual scathing remarks. “Not to worry. We'll fix him right up. Hold up his head and open his mouth.”

He poured in an off color substance Vendras could not identify, but he trusted Falion. Romlyn coughed and sputtered. “Atta boy. You swallowed more than you choked on so that's good at least. Come on. He'll be fine.” Falion invited Vendras to sit by the hearth with him.

“How about your other buddy? Did he make it?”

Vendras nodded. “He'll go to the inn, I'm sure. I think he was sweet on your sister.”

Falion plopped into the chair beside him and released a burst of air, and popped open a wine bottle. “Here. Take the edge off a bit. I know you need it.”

Indeed he did. Vendras drank a few large gulps from the bottle and gave it back to Falion, who had a hefty swig from it himself. His esophagus burned pleasantly.

“Well?”

Vendras understood, and pulled the soul gem from his pocket, handing it to Falion.

“You finally did it,” he said morosely as he shifted the chromatic purple stone in his hand.

“Priscilla made a beautiful funeral pyre for him. He looked like he was sleeping.”

Falion sighed again. “Good. That's good. He deserved to be happy.”

Vendras fell silent. Falion peered over at him, the firelight made the streams of tears glisten on his cheeks.

“Don't be upset, Vendras. We were young and dumb. We had no consideration for others.”

Falion, a scholar of undead and vampires, was largely involved with Sylvan Volur's resurrection. The experience was a test of skill and knowledge for him, and while he helped his friend achieve his goals all those years ago, he reaped benefits from it. Though both of them had not the capacity at the time to think about their actions or what that meant for the recipient of their conjuration and necromantic skills. It was a complicated art, often times morally questionable. People saw their practices as defiling unwilling souls and the dead. Though the mages meant well, it was no wonder why they were so misunderstood by society. This common trait they shared caused Vendras and Falion to become close. Neither of them cared for the limitations for their arts at the Winterhold College, and they especially didn't care for the arch mage's leadership. Falion, the master conjurer, taught Vendras much of what he knew, but he also learned so many new things from his pupil as well. The friends left the college to pursue their conjuration studies elsewhere in peace.

“We're not bad people. I hope you know that,” said Falion.

Vendras had nothing more to say. He reached his hand out without looking at him, and the Redguard handed over the wine bottle yet again.

Falion helped take care of the vampire when Vendras felt too weak to face him. Sometimes he felt like he was more of a son to him, but realizing how miserable he had made Sylvan, Vendras just didn't have it in him. He owed Falion the world for taking all those risks and doing everything he did for him.

“I'll never be able to make it all up to you, Falion.”

Falion took a deep breath. “The only thing I ask of you...is that you let me be the friend I am to you. Write me letters. Come for visits. Invite me to your home. I don't want a damn thing else from you. We had a lot of fun back in the day. What happened to all that? That was enough for me. That's what friends are for.”

Vendras felt guilty yet again. “You're right. I don't know what's wrong with me.”

“Emotions are a bitch,” Falion said. “I get it. I have them too, believe it or not. You hit a rough patch and have a lot of healing to do. But all I know is that I've missed my friend. I know you didn't abandon me or stop thinking of me, but I valued your company. So much has gone on over the years and I feel like I have to learn who you are again.”

“I promise you, this will change.”

“Good,” Falion said gruffly. He arose from his chair to set the black soul gem back in his lockbox to keep it safe. “Get some rest, Vendras. We'll need to get him to the summoning circle by dawn. Before you know it, you'll both be at the Temple of Mara experiencing the happiest day of your lives.” After those uplifting words, he patted him on the shoulder and went back to bed, not until he moved over Agni who was sprawled over the entire mattress. She was older now, but he valued the innocence of the childhood that remained in her. Perhaps one day he would tell her the truth about himself. He had his own demons to battle as well, just like anyone.

Vendras curled his body around Romlyn, wedging himself between him and the wall. He didn't care about covering up and he didn't care he didn't have any room. He just wanted to be there.

Falion awakened them before the sun rose. The walk was not far, but they needed to be ready. “How do you feel?” he asked Romlyn. At least he was conscious now.

“I don't feel great...but not the worst.”

“Do you have the strength to walk?” Vendras asked him.

“I...I don't know.”

“Get on my back. I'll carry you.” He hoisted him up and he latched on.

“Follow me, gentlemen,” said Falion. “Agni, keep the door locked and don't let anyone in until we get back, you hear?”

“Yes sir,” she said.

Falion led the Dunmer to his summoning circle just outside of town in the wilderness. This was where he practiced his spells, among other things. It wasn't anything spectacular to look at, but it didn't matter, as it served its purpose. The sun began to shine over the horizon. Vendras placed Romlyn in the center of the circle. “Can you stand by yourself?”

“I think so,” he said weakly.

“Falion knows what he's doing. You're in good hands.”

“I know.” He mustered a feeble half-smile.

The sun rose ever higher, and Romlyn could feel his blood boiling in his veins. If he never had to feel that agony again, it would be too soon.

Falion began the incantation as soon as the sun was completely visible. It seemed anti-climatic and simple, but Vendras still didn't know how he obtained the power to ask the beings of Oblivion to reverse undeath. The otherworldly beings only wanted a soul...it seemed much too easy. There had to be a trick to it. Everyone had their secrets.

“...as the sun ends the night, end the darkness of this soul, return life to the creature you see before you!”

A peculiar numbness surged through Romlyn's body. He no longer felt pain or bloodthirst and the light no longer irritated his sensitive eyes. That was it. It was over just like that. It almost angered him that they had gone through all that trouble for something so uneventful.

Vendras loved seeing his crimson eyes and a softer look again, and he embraced him tightly. “You're you again. I'm so glad.”

“I'm happy and I feel like a million septims, but...I can't say I'm very impressed.”

Falion shrugged. “That's just how it works. I can change you back if you want.”

Vendras glared at Falion, even though he knew he was joking.

“Do you still need help walking?” he asked Romlyn frantically. “I can carry you if need be.”

He shook out each of his legs. “I'll be all right.”

“Great. Unfortunately, our journey still isn't over. You'll have your moment to be amazed. And Falion, I'm going to require your assistance for a bit longer...”

Falion grinned widely. “You've got that Dunmer fire in your eyes again, Vendras Volur. I like that. I'm all ears.”


	20. Chapter 20

The constellations twinkled brightly in the night sky, the wind howled and whipped through the trees with foreboding presence. The cold-blooded Talen-Jei shivered and slithered sluggishly along the edge of Lake Honrich. “What am I even doing out here?” he hissed to himself. “This is insane.”

The bushes rustled beside him and he nearly jumped out of his scales. “Divines take me! Vendras! You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“I'm sorry,” the dark elf materialized before him. “I'm so thankful you got the message. How did you know it was me?”

“I had a gut feeling,” Talen-Jei breathed, doing his best to control his hysterically beating heart. He knew he'd taken a huge risk blindly obeying an anonymous message. But even Keerava told him to oblige. He knew his wife wouldn't endanger his life if she wasn't certain it was from Vendras or Romlyn.

“No one followed you?”

“I did precisely as requested in the note. Did you find Romlyn? Is he okay?”

“He's fine,” Vendras replied swiftly. “You brought rations?”

The lizard dropped a knapsack onto his arm and gave it to Vendras.

“Bless you! Now that you're here, I have something important for you to do.”

Talen-Jei wasn't fond of the idea, but he already tested the waters with his toes, what difference did it make now if he dove in head first?

“You need to keep an eye on Maven Black-Briar. Find out anything you can. What she's doing, her plans, any trips or business engagements. Anything at all.”

The Argonian gulped. “I suppose my hands are tied.”

“You're amazing!” Vendras embraced him. “I promise you, you will be all right, and I'll make it up to you. Be careful.” In his friend's claws he placed a hand drawn map revealing a rendezvous point as well as other instructions. He also supplied a vial of invisibility solution to conceal on his person to use when the moment became opportune. “Meet me at this location when you learn something. Make haste, dear friend.”

“You're lucky I like you, Vendras Volur.”

Nothing more was spoken, and Vendras sipped his own potion and ducked back into the shadows, the crunch of frosted leaves becoming ever distant as he disappeared without a trace. He returned to an abandoned hut in the forest. It had been many years since this place housed any traces of life, and it was decently isolated. He hoped Talen-Jei would be able to find them there, but he had faith in the reptile.

Within the hut waited Romlyn Dreth, Wulfgaar, and Falion. They boarded up the windows so the light would not escape, and the only things keeping them warm were heavy furs, their bodies, and candles. They simply could not risk being discovered now. They'd come too far. Vendras knocked on the oak door in the appropriate pattern, and the dwellers unbarricaded the door and allowed him entry.

“You made it back!” Romlyn hugged his fiancé like he had just returned home from the war. “Did he come?”

“Yes,” huffed Vendras. He'd been running for most of the way. He opened the knapsack with food and water and divided it evenly amongst them. “Now we play the waiting game.”

Falion whittled some dice with a dagger from pieces of broken wood and they played games, carving their scores on the floorboards. When they grew tired of rolling dice, they told ghost stories in the candlelight to pass the time. Though the circumstances weren't the best, the men and mer had fun while they waited for Talen-Jei.

In a few days time, there was a rapping at their door. It sounded like the secret knock, but rushed and paranoid. They waited until they heard the knock a second time. It had to be Talen-Jei. Indeed it was, and the reptile was rattled as he zipped passed Vendras who had let him in.

“Sweet sap of the Hist, I'm so glad I found you, Vendras! I followed the map, but I thought I'd taken a wrong turn. You're not going to believe this!”

“Calm your tail, you loony lizard.” Romlyn Dreth greeted his old friend with a smile and open arms.

Talen-Jei wrapped his arms around him so forcefully he almost pierced his shoulder blades with his claws. “You dust-dwelling bastard! You had us worried sick!” After releasing Romlyn, he turned to Vendras. “The Black-Briars are going to be hosting a party at their lodge next Fredas beginning at twilight. The entire family will be there, as well as affiliates and acquaintences.”

Vendras slammed his hands onto his shoulders and shook him, an outrageously wide smile bared all his teeth. “Talen-Jei, whatever you did to learn this information, bless your entire lineage, past, present, and future! It's perfect! It's ingenious!”

He scratched his feathery crest. “I've been so caught up in the action I haven't bothered to even ask what you're planning to do them.”

“My dear friend, you shall see soon enough. I just have one more thing to ask of you.” the Dunmer quickly scribbled out a message onto a parchment, on the outside of which he drew a very large insignia, his family's crest. “To the southwest of this shack, about a half hour walk, there is a cave. Hiding within said cave are vampires and an old wood elf woman. They are already expecting you and will not harm you. Give this letter to the woman. Her name is Priscilla. They will know I sent you.”

“Vampires? Vendras, are you daft?!”

“Trust me, Talen-Jei. I haven't given you much reason to, but you will know in due time, friend. I suspect after all is said and done, you will have a much easier time living in Riften. Once we're all safe, I'll have plenty of time to tell you the tale.”

“I can't believe I'm doing all this,” he said under his breath, but he obeyed. He darted out of the hut to run yet another errand. The cave was easy to find, an he was terrified for his blood, but the vampires gave him no trouble whatsoever. Priscilla wrote back on the same parchment stating she will send her crew to the Black-Briar Lodge by nightfall. Vendras sent Talen-Jei back home at last, where he waited nervously with his wife. What was that damned elf planning?

They had plenty of time to prepare. Vendras and Falion did what they do best. Wulfgaar was excited and terrified by what he saw, but it gave him the adventurous thrill he'd been seeking ever since he began his journey with the elves. Vendras gave him a job to do, as he could see it in the big Nord's pale blue eyes he longed to do some bashing. Romlyn Dreth stood by and spectated in awe. He was aware what Vendras did, but he did not comprehend the vastness of his capabilities. Back in Morrowind, he would have been imprisoned for certain. Romlyn was indifferent to such practices, but it still sent shivers down his spine.

“ _Yi daelha?_ ” Vendras sensed his unease.

“Ven...”

“You need not worry, my darling.” He gave him a warm hug and kiss. “I have something very special for you to do if you're up for it...”

Fredas finally came, and twilight fell upon The Rift. Guests filed into the Black-Briar lodge, eager for drinking and indulgence of fancy food. The children, Hemming and Ingun, sans their brother Sibbi who was in prison, arrived in the same carriage.

As darkness fell, the group watched from over the hill in the shadows. Vendras allowed a bit more time for the guests to get comfortable and for the stragglers and latecomers to arrive before he gave the cue. Falion readied his stance. Vendras let out a warcry, and from behind them, legions of skeletons led by vampires charged down the knoll. They fought off the hired guards. The perplexed and mortified party guests poked their heads outside to witness the commotion, and before long, the entire place was in an uproar. Vendras did not want anyone to get killed, but he intended to incite the fear of imminent death. As each skeleton fell, Falion and Vendras would raise another. Their army was infinite. The vampires added a bit of undead flair to the mix, and Vendras permitted them to feed, given they didn't kill anyone in the process. No one innocent was to die this night.

The calamity brought great joy to Vendras with his lover and friends by his side. And just for fun, Vendras and Falion competed with one another who could summon the strongest being. What was an army without generals, after all? They had so many creatures under their command. While everyone was distracted by a mad Redguard, a brutish Nord, skeletons, vampires, and a variety of Daedric and other such warriors from the Oblivion realms, Vendras and Romlyn slipped inside to find the queen bee herself. They discovered Maven ducked behind a bookcase in one of the many bedrooms, but instead of crying like a normal person, she was cursing. Vendras tossed the bookcase aside and lifted the husky Nord woman by the collar of her clothes and pinned her against the wall by her neck. She struggled and dug her witchy nails into his arm.

“You...I should have...known this was your...handiwork, you...man-loving...grayskin fuck!” Her voice was strained. She spat in his face. Visions of all the things he desired to do to her corpse danced through his mind, but he refrained and wiped it away on the sleeve of his free arm. This was Romlyn's time to shine.

“You're going to regret that.” Romlyn bared his teeth. He drew his dagger and slid the blade down her cheek, blood trickled and dripped from her chin. “I could kill you right here right now.”

She did her best to maintain her aggravatingly wretched attitude, but there was no doubt she was terrified now with an abnormally hulking Dunmer at her throat. “Do it...Dreth!” Her feet kicked as she tried to break away from Vendras's clutches. He felt her growing weaker, her face was turning shades of red and purple, the pupils of her honey-hued eyes dilated with terror.

“Here's what you're going to do, 'Lady' Maven. You're going to forget about Romlyn's debt. You're going to leave him or anyone associated with him or myself alone, and you're going to treat our fellow elves under your employ with respect. And when we leave here tonight, you're going to pay the Riften guard and everyone else to turn the other cheek. You see what I am capable of here. This is nothing. Child's play. I have seen darkness you could never begin to fathom. And if you get the Thieves Guild or Dark Brotherhood or any other offhanded faction involved, we'll kill. Every. Last. One. Do you understand me?”

Maven's composure diminished rather quickly after she lost more air to her brain. “Y...yes.”

Romlyn extended his arms straight down and opened his palms. The fire of his ancestors surged through him, and his palms began to blaze. “This is your punishment. For your forked tongue, your cruelty, your treachery. You dare to threaten the life of me or Vendras again, I won't be so courteous as to let you live.” He shot his flames beside her and set the tapestries on fire, some of her hair and clothing singed. Vendras released her and let her fall to the floor. She grabbed at her throat gulping and gasping for air. “Gather everyone who is left inside and go. It won't be long till this place burns to the ground.”

Outside, Wulfgaar swung his warhammer right beside Hemming Black-Briar's head and he bawled in the fetal position on the ground. Although Vendras found it particularly hilarious, he had to put and end to all the merriment. He shooed away the people who hadn't already fled home. The last of the skeletal army had crumbled to piles of bones, the others turned to dust. The vampires now with full bellies bid fond farewells to Vendras and the others and slinked back into the darkness to return to their hideout and eventually return to their home in the west.

The flame-engulfed upper floor of the lodge cracked and broke, burning boards and logs imploded in showers of embers on the ground. The destruction was positively marvelous. A true masterpiece.

Falion, sweaty and disheveled, admired from upon a boulder sipping beer he'd kifed from a fleeing party-goer who had stocked up on as many goods as they could before they bailed. “Gentlemen! Join me!” He had more for the rest of the crew as well.

They watched the spectacle of the Black-Briar Lodge crumbling to ash before them, Maven and her remaining offspring Ingun (Hemming had already been long gone by this point) hopped on the lone horse that remained and didn't look back. Entranced by the roaring flames, Vendras soaked up the heat and enjoyed the taste of free beer and justice. Romlyn broke his concentration and kissed him sharply. It was finally over and the relief he felt in this moment was astounding. Vendras was taken aback at first but over the moons to return his affection when his mind registered the situation. Romlyn's lips were salty from perspiration, his tongue intertwined with Vendras's and for the first time in a long time they both felt the exhilaration of true freedom. Vendras was reluctant to part his lips from his, dreading the transience of his beating heart. But when they looked into each other's sanguine Dunmer eyes, he knew for certain he'd feel this liveliness over and over again and he would never grow weary of it.

Falion realized his elven comrades had been much too quiet and blushed as he glanced over at them. But he smiled and applauded to jar them back to reality for just a moment. “Save the good kissing for the wedding! And the best kissing for after!” Everyone laughed and they set out to enjoy their encampment at the hut in the forest one last time until the morning. They ate comfortable and filling portions of their final rations of food and water, bathed in the nearby stream and refreshed themselves, so when they made their grand entrance at the gates of Riften, all would tremble before them.

And did they ever. Vendras's auburn mane shone like fire in the morning sun, and his eyes ever more ablaze, with his significant other on his arm and Falion and Wulfgaar following behind like lordly stewards. The subjects of Riften were stunned to see the likes of Vendras Volur and Romlyn Dreth waltzing into their city without a care in the world. Word of the party Vendras threw for the Black-Briars already made its rounds through the place. The city fell silent and still as the four men strolled onward through the doors of the Bee and Barb and placed their complacent posteriors on the barstools. Keerava crossed her arms and shook her head, but her scaled lips were set far and wide with an incredulous grin.

“We'll have the usual.”


	21. Epilogue

Vendras remained with Romlyn at his Riften home for the following months. They basked in the warm embrace of the spring and summer seasons, enjoying one another's company in tranquility at last.

He and Romlyn spoke to the priest Maramal at the Temple of Mara to make wedding arrangements, and he was more than happy to oblige. Vendras made sure to send letters to all his friends across Skyrim.

The day of their matrimony fell on a crisp autumn morning, Vendras wove a crown of braids in the white hair of his betrothed, interlacing ribbons of gold between the strands. Vendras's hair was done up in a similar fashion, and for once he allowed his long mane to fly free, a blanket of lustrous coppery silk against his back. The Shatter-Shield family gifted them tailored clothes made of the finest fabrics and materials. It was one of the kindest offerings Romlyn ever received and the pride swelled within him. It felt amazing to not be in old tattered rags.

"Are you ready?" Vendras's velvety tenor voice gave him goosebumps. He affirmed silently with delight on his face. He was nervous, but in a pleasant sort of way. They ambled arm in arm together to the temple. Within, their friends and acquaintances sat, eager for festivities and any excuse they could have to eat or drink.

Everyone showed up to attend this beautiful spectacle. Torbjorn, Tova, and Nilsine, Falion and Jonna, Priscilla, Keerava and Talen-Jei, Wulfgaar, and about half of Riften. Even the infamous Maven Black-Briar showed, Romlyn's deep incision still not fully healed on her face. Her attitude toward them changed a great deal since the lodge incident. They earned her respect by rising against her. She even presented them a large sum of gold for a wedding gift as her form of apology for her past transgressions.

Vendras and Romlyn strolled down the aisle to the altar, their close friends clapping, cheering and verbally admiring their beautiful ceremonial garb. Maramal greeted them with open arms. “Shall we begin, gentlemen?” The pair beamed at one another, overwhelmed with joy and they nodded. Vendras clutched the vial of his father's ashes against his heart while he held tightly onto Romlyn's hand.

Maramal wasted no time in joining these lovers. “It was Mara that first gave birth to all of creation and pledged to watch over us as her children. It is from her love of us that we first learned to love one another. It is from this love that we learn that a life lived alone is no life at all. We gather here today, under Mara's loving gaze, to bear witness to the union of two souls in eternal companionship. May they journey forth together in this life and the next, in prosperity and poverty, and in joy and hardship.”

The priest paused briefly to look them both in their fiery Dunmer eyes. “Do you, Romlyn, agree to be bound together in love now and forever?”

Romlyn pored over Vendras. He could not believe he was standing before all his friends now with the one he loved most dearly. But to his guests he was wasting too much time gawking.

“On with it! You know the answer, Dreth!” Keerava's croaky voice echoed against the walls of the temple. The couple both snickered, and Romlyn replied. “I do. Now...and forever.”

Warmth welled within Maramal's heart. “And you, Vendras?”

The tall and graceful elf looked down upon his significant other. He looked better than he ever had seen him before, all aglow with bliss. He could look upon that face every hour of every day and never tire of it. He took both his hands in his and gave a bashful glance, his knees were weak. Romlyn was a sorcerer, and his presence bewitching. “I do. Now and forever.”

“Excellent!” Maramal spouted. “Under the authority of Mara, the Divine of Love, I declare this couple to be wed!”

The room lit up with applause, and Vendras could not resist sealing it with a kiss, which made their guests congratulate them with more fervor. After a short ovation, they all filed out swiftly to the Bee and Barb, raring for the revelry they'd all been waiting for.

“So now what?” Romlyn said, somewhat disappointed that their wedding came and went so fleetingly.

Vendras laughed and clutched his hand. “My dear husband, this world is ours to conquer.”


	22. ARTWORK

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Illustrations and Art and I will definitely add more when I make more! ^_^

> [ ](https://www.instagram.com/p/B814U9JDiOA/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading)[ View this post on Instagram ](https://www.instagram.com/p/B814U9JDiOA/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading)
> 
> [A post shared by Kayla Schraeder (@thebloodofages)](https://www.instagram.com/p/B814U9JDiOA/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading)

> [ ](https://www.instagram.com/p/B9BChKNjFK5/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading)
> 
> [ View this post on Instagram ](https://www.instagram.com/p/B9BChKNjFK5/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading)
> 
> [A post shared by Kayla Schraeder (@thebloodofages)](https://www.instagram.com/p/B9BChKNjFK5/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading)

> [ ](https://www.instagram.com/p/CF0eCGRlbGg/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading)
> 
> [ View this post on Instagram ](https://www.instagram.com/p/CF0eCGRlbGg/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading)
> 
> [A post shared by Kayla Schraeder (@thebloodofages)](https://www.instagram.com/p/CF0eCGRlbGg/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading)

> [ ](https://www.instagram.com/p/CINE7ebBTQU/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading)
> 
> [ View this post on Instagram ](https://www.instagram.com/p/CINE7ebBTQU/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading)
> 
> [A post shared by Kayla Schraeder (@thebloodofages)](https://www.instagram.com/p/CINE7ebBTQU/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading)

> [ ](https://www.instagram.com/p/CISSQl0h5_r/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading)
> 
> [ View this post on Instagram ](https://www.instagram.com/p/CISSQl0h5_r/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading)
> 
> [A post shared by Kayla Schraeder (@thebloodofages)](https://www.instagram.com/p/CISSQl0h5_r/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading)

> [ ](https://www.instagram.com/p/CKVPPWABYzt/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading)
> 
> [ View this post on Instagram ](https://www.instagram.com/p/CKVPPWABYzt/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading)
> 
> [A post shared by Kayla Schraeder (@thebloodofages)](https://www.instagram.com/p/CKVPPWABYzt/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading)

> [ ](https://www.instagram.com/p/CLF2Ax1BVHh/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading)
> 
> [ View this post on Instagram ](https://www.instagram.com/p/CLF2Ax1BVHh/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading)
> 
> [A post shared by Kayla Schraeder (@thebloodofages)](https://www.instagram.com/p/CLF2Ax1BVHh/?utm_source=ig_embed&utm_campaign=loading)


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